


Broken Promises and Timelines

by Tyrant_Tortoise



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: AU-hopping, Alternate Universe - Horrortale, Alternate Universe - Swapfell, Alternate Universe - Underfell, Alternate Universe - Underlust, Alternate Universe - Underswap, Alternate Universe- Dancetale, Alternate Universe- Dusttale, Alternate Universe- Echotale, Alternate Universe- Mobtale/fell, Alternate Universe- Outertale, Attempted Undertale Genocide Run, Broken Promises, F/M, Multi, Possessive!Sans, Reader copes with guilt through more sinning, Reader may or may not be Frisk- your call, Sans Remembers Resets, The timelines get broken guys, Threesome - F/M/M, Undertale Saves and Resets, come to hell with me, how'd this turn into a love story?, ready to be judged for your sins?, smut smut smut, you feel your sins crawling on your back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-01 04:08:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 133,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8606821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyrant_Tortoise/pseuds/Tyrant_Tortoise
Summary: *With each RESET, you find yourself in a different AU.You made a mistake--a selfish, terrible mistake--and broke your promise.  Unfortunately, that's not all you broke.  With your RESET button shattered, you traverse the timelines, trying to find a way back to your friends to make things right.  But with the skeleton(s) you can't seem to resist popping up in new form with each RESET, when all is said and done... will you even want to go back?





	1. *You're a promise-breaker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've fallen down the hole with the rest of you, and now I'm a dirty skele-sinner too. But if you're going to be trash, you may as well be trash in the best way!
> 
> This first chapter is filled with an angsty set-up of timeline breaking. The reader may or may not be Frisk.  
> There's going to be both smut and fluff, laced with a heavy dose of guilt, coming up in other chapters. Updates will hopefully be frequent.

Someone else was pulling the strings, making you dance. 

It was easy to give into the whispers, especially after the last **RESET** \-- the one that had destroyed the Happy Ending you had worked so hard to achieve. Everything was undone in that moment. Countless LOADs were lost, where as a child, you had gotten killed by your well-meaning friends' attempts to capture you. Impaled by a bone here, speared through your stomach while running there, electrocuted to death on a game show... Each death had been a terrible strain that broke your soul, but thanks to your DETERMINATION, you had been able to try again. And again. 

And again.

Each time, you showed mercy. Each time, you spared every monster that crossed your path, flirting, humming, and joking your way out of every encounter. The first time you broke through the barrier, the king had died and you had been trapped in hell with Omega Flowey. You had spared even him in the end, You had spent years back on the Surface, trying to live your life as peacefully as possible...

Despite the reason you went to Mount Ebott in the first place.

Then, after a particularly hard day, one where you just wanted to lie on your bed and never lift your head from your pillow again, you came across one of the relics from your childhood: the old flip phone that Toriel had given you and Alphys had upgraded. Somehow, it still came to life when you held the power button down with your thumb. There was a voicemail waiting to be heard, a familiar baritone voice explaining how things were in the Underground after you left. Hearing his voice again made you feel fully awake, hanging onto his every word, concentrating harder than you had on anything since leaving the Underground. 

_don't give up wherever you are, ok?_

Those words filled you with DETERMINATION. You hadn't felt anything like that since you were a kid. It was easy to draw upon that power inside you when you felt like that, to tentatively reach for the **RESET** and push. All of those years vanished in an instant when you awoke in those yellow flowers, but unlike now, you didn't feel as if you had lost time. You felt as if you had gained a second chance to live. You went through the Ruins with vigor and enjoyed every bit of Toriel's pie (she even remembered what kind you preferred, strangely enough). 

You had turned around a little too eagerly when Sans approached you, your hand already out before he told you to turn around and shake his hand. The lights in his eyesockets had studied you for a little too long, and he made a comment about your actions that had you nervously fidgeting with the hem of your blue-and-purple sweater (one that you had missed dearly; it had been your favorite thing to wear as a child). However, he shrugged it off after another moment and went back on-script. 

You had skipped to Snowdin with childlike glee, besting the skelebro's puzzles, laughing at every pun no matter how _pun_ bearable they were, and enthusiastically petting each guard dog along the way.

Your date with Papyrus was as platonic as ever, but you complimented him until his eyes boggled in different directions and even hugged him when he claimed he would help you settle for second best. At Grillby's with Sans, you tried out your own skeleton jokes and even got a surprised laugh out of him.

In Waterfall, you took your time, cherishing the beauty of the luminescent water, listening to every Echo Flower and then whispering your own secrets. You used Sans's telescope despite knowing he was pranking you, listened to the music box inside the statue for a solid thirty minutes, and even caught Monster Kid before he tripped and fell a few times, causing him to blush as red as the umbrella you later held for him. 

Undyne killed you twice on the bridge, her spears impaling you before you managed to find your way, but you stayed DETERMINED. Eventually, you made it through her battles and became "absolute besties" by burning down her house through a cooking lesson gone wrong. 

In Hotland, you went through all of Mettaton's shows with vigor, answering every question correctly, and even solving Alphys's color-based puzzle of doom within the time limit. You balanced an absurd number of "head-dogs" on your head and listened to a few too many hot-dog puns. ( _i've gotta be **frank** with you, kid, my arms can't reach any higher._ ) You spent far too long at the MTT Resort, having saved your gold just to afford a lavish room to enjoy, and when Sans gave you his speech about his promise, you snagged his sleeve as he moved to leave and thanked him. 

You gave Mettaton the best ratings he's ever had with your dancing and product-placement, and then helped Alphys and Undyne go on a date. Afterward, you entered new territory when you descended into the True Lab, but you continued to show mercy to the creatures none-the-less and made sure the scientist did the right thing.

And at the Castle... you saved everyone. ( _you didn't gain LOVE, but you gained love._ ) For a moment, you even saved Flowey. The barrier broke, everyone went out into the sun, beginning to plan what the monsters would do now that they were freed, and how they would get the humans to accept them. You went with Toriel, taking her paw in your hand with a smile on your face. You had succeeded. Everyone was alive. Things were going to be different now that you were no longer alone.

But the years passed slowly, the adventure gone. You lived with Toriel and sometimes stayed with Asgore, like having divorced parents. You wanted the two to patch things up, and sometimes it looked possible, but it was a slow process. The skeleton brothers had a guest room where you stayed the night quite often, considering the two of them to be your best friends. Sans's influence made you into quite the prankster whenever he was around, and the two of you often had prank wars against one another. This time on the Surface was much better than when you had been the only one to pass through the barrier; you were surrounded by people that loved you. Not only that, but you were Savior of the Monsters, the ambassador between them and humans. Sure, there were skeptics that believed the monsters were coercing you into trying to bridge the gap between the monsters and humans, but when they were met with the sheer sincerity and love you had for all of the monsters you had met Underground, their assumptions were usually brushed aside.

Still... being an ambassador was tough. Dealing with politicians, press conferences, rallies for monster rights, and schoolwork gave you a lot to handle on one plate. The older you got, the more responsibilities were thrust upon you, and the less time you had to just relax and goof off with your friends. 

You had become a teenager, and you were feeling moody. 

There had been another letter from your parents--your human parents, that is--who came out of the woodwork to try to capitalize on your political status and take you away from your monster family and friends. In the last timeline, they had never made another reappearance, but now that you had something to offer, now that you were special, they were putting the pressure on, threatening to undo the happy life that you worked so hard to build. You were now eighteen, old enough that they couldn't legally force you, but they could still appear on a talk-show or the news and paint you and your monster family in a bad light. You wondered how many more letters you could ignore, how many more you could snag from the mailbox before Toriel one day beat you to it. 

Brushing the thought aside, you stashed the letter in a drawer of your desk and headed to the skeletons' house down the street. Even though you had work waiting on you at home, you needed to unwind and get your mind off things, and the best way to do that was to hang out with Sans. 

Throughout the years, you had grown closer and closer to the comical skeleton. You had learned a few of his secrets (he once worked as a scientist, which surprised you more than it should have), and he had admitted that he figured out you could **RESET** (and you promised him you never would again). He remembered most of the loops and even bits and pieces of living in the Underground when you were gone and Asgore was dead. He had nightmares of something happening to the former royal scientist, and even nightmares of Flowey going on a murderous rampage (which you think might be an actual timeline, but you don't tell him). He let you wear his jacket when you pretended to be cold, and there had been several times that the two of you had fallen asleep together on the couch, you leaning heavily against his side (surprisingly, it didn't feel like hard bone; it felt softer) and his arm draped around your shoulders. 

You had fallen for Sans harder than you had fallen into the Underground.

So, when you walked into his house unannounced and spotted him standing in the kitchen, you froze. Time slowed down, allowing you time to process the scene, to roll it around in your head from every angle when it didn't compute correctly.

He was standing with a bottle of ketchup loosely grasped in his hand by his side. You knew that one of his secrets was that he liked to spike his ketchup with whiskey, and that bit of information was supplied by your mind in order to make sense of things, but you dismissed the excuse before it even got a chance to form. His other hand was raised slightly, his signature blue jacket hanging down from his shoulder on the opposite side, and his skull was tipped back. 

Toriel--your mother--stood in front of him, one paw resting on the back of his skull, while his free hand cupped her cheek. There was a wine glass in her opposite hand that you didn't process. Their mouths were locked and from the way their heads moved, it was more than just a peck. If you weren't mistaken, you could see the faint blue glow reflecting off Toriel's white fur in the dimness of the kitchen, which was likely his magic manifested into a tongue. 

All of the blood drained from your face. Your heart clenched painfully in your chest and then bottomed-out into your stomach, making you feel ill. Your eyes filled with tears, mercifully distorting the scene and blurring your vision. For a long moment, you were rooted to the spot, simply watching in abject horror, before your fight-or-flight instincts finally decided to kick in. 

And you never were one for FIGHTing.

You turned tail and fled, letting the front door slam against the side of the house, you shoved it so hard. Had you been in that much of a hurry, or did you want the sound to snap them out of their make-out session? If you were honest, it was probably the latter.

"hey, kid!" 

You thought you heard his voice, calling out to you. You might have just imagined it, though. By now, you were crying as you ran, half-blinded by tears, back to your room. You were ugly crying, gasping for breath as you both sobbed and sprinted. Whenever you reached your room at last, you slammed and locked the door. Sans could always teleport through, but you knew he would at least give you some space first. 

If he really had noticed it was you that had been standing there.

But would he even realize you were upset? Did he know how betrayed you felt at that moment? That you were foolish enough to think that his winks, light touches, secret-spilling, couch cuddles, shared laughter, and gentle words meant he liked you? Or had you misinterpreted it completely and he really did still find you to be just a kid. 

Maybe he only saw you as his step-daughter. 

You cried harder at that thought, forcing your face into your pillow and flipping on your stereo to drown out the noise in case they followed you. Your mouth was open as you sobbed, taking in deep, gasping breaths and feeling as if part of you was breaking. You clutched your chest. He had been the entire reason you even **RESET** to go break the barrier. He had been the gentle strength you needed to not give up. And now... how were you supposed to look at him the same way? Or Toriel? You had lost your best friend and mother in one fell swoop (or at least it felt like it in the heat of the moment), and your biological parents were trying to once again make your life hell. 

What could you do?

You stopped sobbing, though you were still crying, and sat up, dragging the pillow with you. 

You could always... try again.

The option was there, a mulligan against the crappy hand you had been dealt. You could go back to the Underground, where you could experience all of the happy memories, maybe even spend years there this time instead of mere weeks. You could stretch it out, grow up among the monsters, where your bio-parents couldn't weasel their way in, and... well... 

Maybe you could get Sans to see you as more than a child. 

You called up the options, though it took a moment. Your DETERMINATION was unsteady. The familiar buttons kept flickering in and out of existence. Finally, you managed to calm down enough by taking a few deep breaths to get the options to remain. Your hand hovered over the **RESET**. It would be so easy. They would never know, right? 

A knock came to your door, barely audible past your blaring stereo. 

"Child?" It was Toriel's. You still loved her, even after all of this. She was the only real mother you'd ever had, the only woman that had been excited to bake you a pie and even asked your preference. She had helped you through your schoolwork, taught you a strange love for eating snails, and stayed by your side the entire night your caught a stomach virus. 

"My child, are you all right?" 

She didn't deserve to go back Underground. The button flickered again. 

"kid?" 

Now, it was Sans's voice, making you relive the scene of the two of them together. You scrunched your face, screwing your eyes shut as if that could block out the memory. You could see his hand on her cheek, drawing her closer in a way that you had fantasized about plenty of times. In a way that would never be a reality. 

Would he remember if you **RESET**? He never remembered everything about timelines, but would he remember this? You had promised you would never do it again, that this would be the last **RESET**. If you broke that promise, he would never forgive you.

"ah.. kid? hey, open up, ok? let's talk." 

You envisioned having to call him dad. You envisioned your human parents taking you away, to where you would never see any of the monsters again.

It was too much.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, your voice drown out by your favorite song. And then you gathered what DETERMINATION you could muster, and you slammed your palm onto the button.

 

###### 

Everything went black, and when you awoke, golden flowers danced in your vision. From where you were lying, you could see the stars through the hole where you fell. A quick glance down confirmed that you were in your favorite blue-and-purple striped sweater, and you even still had the band-aid on your knee from where you tripped and tore your black leggings. 

You had chosen an escape instead of facing your problems. You had called up the **RESET** and pressed it despite the fact that you were betraying your friends, despite the fact that it was the most selfish thing you've ever done. You didn't even realize you were capable of something so selfish. If Sans remembered, he would despise you for taking them away from the Surface, for putting them right back in the Underground just so you could play hero and feel good about yourself again. You just **RESET** so you could be a kid again with no responsibilities. 

***You're disgusting.**

***You're a freak.**

***You're the worst.**

It didn't occur to you that these thoughts weren't actually your own. Each time you had woken up in the bed of golden flowers, you had heard whispers, but they had been faint. You had caught a word here and there, sometimes even thought that you had seen something standing behind you when you caught a glimpse of your reflection, but you had always assumed you were paranoid. It always felt as if there was a presence in the back of your mind, one that was easy enough to taper down to a back burner until it was merely the white noise of static

But this time was different. This time, you were filled with loathsome thoughts and your DETERMINATION was shaken, allowing the whispers to grow. You hated yourself for betraying your friends, loathed your human family for being cold, and and blamed your monster family for not noticing the fact that you were in love with Sans. You had stabbed them all in the back and they would never even know.

***So why not stab them in the front this time?**

Someone else is pulling the strings, making you dance.

You become a passenger in your own body, forced to watch as the dust cakes onto your palms and turns your brown boots gray. Thoughts that you would never think crossed your mind and words you would never speak left your lips. You killed your own mother even as you screamed on the inside, even as Toriel claimed to realize that she was actually protecting the rest of the Underground from _you_.

***Bitch got what she deserved.**

You sob, but your body just smiles. Flowey calls you Chara, and you nearly miss it. _"Your name is.. Chara?"_ You inwardly try to speak to the other presence in your body. From the floating darkness that surrounds you, you can feel another red heart, filled with more  DETERMINATION than yours. It radiates LOVE gained from the Ruins. 

The voice doesn't respond. 

 

###### 

"if you could do me a favor and keep pretending to be human, i'd appreciate it." 

Sans's words make you feel cold, and you try to scream at him, try to beg him to remember you, but you can't. Surprisingly, Chara (you've decided that's their name) doesn't kill either skeleton brother, but also fails to take part in any of the puzzles Papyrus has arranged. 

No matter how much you incoherently beg, however, Chara uses your body to slice apart every guard dog you come across. 

***This stupid creature trusts you immediately.**

_Please don't, please don't, please don't, pleasepleaseplease_

When Chara breaks Lesser Dog's neck before it has a chance to stretch out eagerly, you retreat within yourself, trying to block out what's happening. The yipe echoes in your head and you feel your lips curve in a smirk in response, even though you're internally screaming with your hands over your ears. 

You stop paying attention until you hear that familiar voice again.

"if you keep going like you are now, you're gonna have a bad time." 

Sans teleports away from you right in front of your eyes, without even trying to sugar-coat his teleportation powers as shortcuts like he usually did. There was so much hate to his voice, the lights gone from his eyesockets, that you actually felt your body tremble. Was Chara afraid of him?

***No.**

You were, though.

 

###### 

"IT FEELS LIKE YOUR LIFE IS GOING DOWN A DANGEROUS PATH." 

Snowdin is empty, except for one monster still foolish enough to face you.

_Not him. Not him. Please, Chara, please. Don't._

Your body keeps moving forward, one deliberate step at a time. 

_Not him, not him, don't hurt him, he's the sweetest person I've ever met!_

"EVERYONE CAN BE A GREAT PERSON IF THEY TRY!" 

You're sobbing on the inside so loud that you can barely hear his speech.

"ARE YOU OFFERING A HUG OF ACCEPTANCE? WOWIE! MY LESSONS ARE ALREADY WORKING!" 

***He's the biggest idiot you've ever met.**

_No! No, he's sweet and he always sees the best in everyone! He just wants friends! Please, just leave him alone. Please._

You're not above pleading.

"I, PAPYRUS, WELCOME YOU WITH OPEN ARMS!" 

_Run Papyrus, run away!_

But he doesn't. You know he won't because he chooses to accept that you're really going to hug him. You think back to all the times you had hugged him throughout the years. You remember your platonic date with him, where he tried so hard to make sure you had a good time. He was a sweetheart, someone you cherished, someone whose spaghetti you would eat again and again no matter how inedible it was just to make him feel good. He was like a big brother to you, someone you admired almost as much as Sans did. 

And yet you walked straight to him while he held his arms open for you and struck him down. 

You lopped his head from his body, and when his body crumbled to dust, he was still talking, surprised but unperturbed. 

"EVEN SO... I...I STILL BELIEVE IN YOU!" 

You leaned in with a grin, sucked in a deep breath, and blew it out. His skull became dust that scattered in the snow. That was enough for you; you curled up into yourself, too weak to keep fighting against Chara. The more LOVE they gained, the easier it was for them to kill. 

This wasn't you. This wasn't you.

From the treeline, someone watched, a blue eye glowing in the darkness.

###### 

A place you once found beautiful and somewhat forlorn was the sight of a massacre.

***In my way.**

You killed Undyne despite her DETERMINATION bringing her back from the brink of death. You never had expected to be able to go toe-to-toe with the Captain of the Royal Guard, but you were now a formidable force. 

Hotland was devoid of puzzles, traps, or life. There were no game shows and the resort was vacant. Somewhere in the insane depths of your mind, you considered staying in one of the lush rooms now that you didn't have to fork over the hefty gold amount for the experience. From the way you actually paused, staring at the hallway, you assumed Chara considered it, too. 

Vaguely, you remembered your pseudo-date with Sans at the adjoining restaurant. The ambient music, sitting across from one another as he bared part of his soul and let you know that he had only played along and protected you because he made a promise. You wondered if he had made that same promise this time, or if you had killed Toriel before she got the chance. 

You remembered Toriel and Sans in the other timeline, kissing in the kitchen, and wondered if that moment hadn't been building ever since they started telling knock knock jokes all those years before. The promise had only been something else that cemented them together. And well, you had made your own promise to Sans and then broke it just like he broke your heart. 

Just like you were breaking the timeline.

You didn't even realize that Mettaton was dead until you were passing by his hunk of scrap metal, breathing heavy from the exertion of the fight. You knew where your next stop was. 

You smiled. 

###### 

"heya. you've been busy, huh." 

You felt like you were waking up from a deep sleep, a muffled voice coming through like your head was beneath your blanket. 

"let me ask you a question. do you think even the worst person can change? that everyone can be a good person, if they just try?" 

You had heard something similar earlier, when you decapitated his brother. Had Sans been thinking about that all this time? You stepped closer. 

***People don't change.**

The locket dangled from your neck, and a knife glinted from your hand as you idly twirled the handle around in your palm. As Chara did those things. You had become so complacent in just riding out the mayhem that you had stopped trying to differentiate the two of you. It was easier to go with the flow. It was less painful.

"do you wanna have a bad time?" 

_Please._

"this is why i don't make promises." 

You didn't hear the rest of his speech before he had killed you in an instant. Looks like you weren't the only promise-breaker anymore. Of course, you LOADed back, but this time... he didn't give you the same spiel. He taunted you, saying you looked as if you had just died. He knew about the timelines, after all, but... how much did he really remember? It had shaken you; it had shaken Chara, too. They charged in with your body recklessly, managing to dodge most of his first attack, but then failing to cut him down with the knife. Instead, he teleported to stand behind you. 

"what? did you think i was gonna stand there and take it?" 

He winked, his expression so casual and relaxed that you felt your soul clench in response. You were starting to feel again, starting to become more aware of what was happening, instead of watching it second-hand. His voice was drawing you more and more out of the depths of yourself, until you were back in the passenger seat, forced to feel rising panic.

He killed you, over and over again. The bones would impale your body, you'd be charred alive by a Gaster Blaster, you'd get forcefully thrown from the pillars to the ceiling with his blue magic until your spine snapped or your head cracked open like an egg. Every death was painful, and each time you LOADed back at a yellow SAVE star, it felt like your body was being ripped apart by a phantom pain. Each time, he'd taunt you, until he stopped counting the number of deaths and started just getting to the point.

He was getting tired, but he was predictable; you were getting faster. It would only take one hit to dust him.

***He can't dodge forever.**

You were filled with someone else's DETERMINATION.

_Sans!_  
_I'm.. I'm so sorry._  
_Please.. Don't give up._  
_Don't stop dodging._

The words wouldn't come. Your lips were twisted in a sinister grin. The knife in your hand glinted off the light streaming through the stained glass windows, reflecting back a face you didn't quite recognize. 

***Don't recognize? Don't make me laugh. Despite everything, it's still you.**

You wanted him to keep killing you, to keep stopping you before you killed him. You wanted to be punished over and over again, to have him take out whatever anger and hatred he might have until he felt even the slightest bit better. You wanted your blood to wash the dust off your hands and each blow to the head to get rid of the images of your friends' faces crumbling to dust.

***You feel your sins crawling on your back.**

***This is all your fault.**

He begged you to remember him, spoke of bad food and good laughs. He begged you to **RESET** , and you wondered which timeline he remembered and how far. He spoke of getting to the Surface and then ending up right back in the Underground. 

"kid, are you still in there? just reset and let's forget all of this! c'mon!" 

Recognition was all over his face. Chara was getting faster, swinging the knife closer and closer to him while he struggled to dodge and attack. 

You thought about the first time he had judged you here, and how he had seemed so proud of you.

You thought of the time Flowey had tried to absorb his soul and he had become lost. You had told him bad skeleton jokes and begged him not to give up until he remembered you. 

You wondered if this is what it felt like to be a Lost Soul. 

More DETERMINED than you've ever felt before, you mustered up every ounce of strength you had and forced your mouth to open.

"I'm sorry!"

The words were forcefully shouted through nearly clenched teeth, raspy and riding on the crest of a sob. 

Crimson stained the golden hue cast upon the corridor's floor. His look of disbelief suddenly mirrored your own. The knife clattered to the floor, echoing loudly in the corridor. There was a slash through Sans's chest, red dripping from his chin. The shock had been enough to give you momentary control back, but that was all that you needed. With every ounce of your own DETERMINATION you could muster, you called up the **RESET** button and shakily slammed your palm onto it. 

***No, we were so close! You idiot! What are you doing?!**

Everything went black again.

###### 

When you woke up again, familiar golden flowers framed your view of the starry sky twinkling through the hole above-head. You listened hard, but the whispers and the presence were eerily absent. Did Chara get stuck in the other timeline? You didn't know for sure, but you were glad none-the-less. 

You stood up, but as soon as you did, you noticed something... strange. Instead of being in your child body like when you usually **RESET** , you were in the young adult body from the Surface timeline. You were even wearing your favorite sweater dress, black tights, and boots that you had been wearing when you... went up to your room that night. Pushing those thoughts aside, you made your way through the Ruins, intent on figuring out what else was different about this timeline. 

Flowey was absent, which was strange; you figured he of all monsters would be able to tell you something. Instead, you made your way through puzzles that seemed a little more intense than you remembered and noted that the Froggits seemed a bit more aggressive than usual. Still, you were able to spare them through enough compliments and continued mercy just fine.

Toriel showed up a bit late, though you supposed that was triggered by Flowey's absence. She was wearing darker clothing, her eyes seeming almost red and her fur matted. However, she acted the same, calling you her child and offering to bake you pie, which you were grateful for. You watched her in the kitchen while she chatted on like she always had, and you smiled, feeling a longing that was burrowed deep within your heart.

Alongside your guilt.

You could see her asking if you hated her that much when she collapsed into a heap of dust. You could still remember Chara's affirmative nod (or was it really you?). 

You could see her beaming with happiness as she finally got to live out her dream of being a teacher, surrounded by children that adored her.

You could see her with a wine glass in her hand, eagerly kissing Sans.

You clenched your eyes closed and leaned against the doorframe. Toriel glanced back toward you. "Are you all right, my child?"

"Y-yeah," you lied, your eyes flying back open. You couldn't look at her, however. "I'm just.. tired. It's been a long day."

"Get some rest then. I'll leave you the pie when it's finished," Toriel insisted, her voice the same. You nodded and stepped away. 

"Okay then. I will. G'night... Mom," you added, your voice nearly breaking. The goat woman sucked in a surprised gasp, but you didn't look back. You went straight to your room and laid down in the bed that was now too small for you; your feet hung off the end. You pressed your face into the pillow and sobbed loud and broken, trying to muffle the sound. Curling up, you cried until you started to hyperventilate, allowing yourself to feel everything that had happened in the last timeline. 

You had killed everyone you loved.

You had broken your promise to Sans, gotten possessed by a vengeful spirit, and gone on a homicidal rampage throughout the Underground. 

And what? All because he didn't want to kiss you? Papyrus had told you that once and no one had to die then. 

You had messed up, big time. Now, this timeline seemed a little off the rails, but you hoped that the differences were only subtle, like Toriel's eye color and clothing. Oh, and the fact that you were much older this time around. You had to see if everyone was okay; you couldn't risk another **RESET** if things were going off-script. It could make things worse. 

You finally managed to cry yourself to sleep, but when you awoke, there was a large piece of pie beside your bed. While you ate it, the fact that it was still the same filled you with DETERMINATION. Once you were finished, you went through the usual motions of trying to leave the Ruins. Everything seemed normal until you insisted on leaving. Toriel became frantic, screaming, "You're just like all the others, aren't you?! You all think that you can take advantage of my kindness and then just go out there and get yourselves murdered! WELL, NOT IF I CAN HELP IT! If you're really so **EAGER TO DIE** , then I'll just **KILL YOU MYSELF**!" 

She cackled with a edge of insanity as she burned you alive. You didn't even make it five seconds. When you LOADed back to your room, you screamed and hit yourself all over, trying to extinguish an invisible fire. Then you realized it was no longer there and breathed in deep. 

Okay. You deserved that.

Round two ended the same way. And so did round three, even if you managed to last a little longer. You deserved those, too. Round 4 was progress, but you still couldn't dodge her attacks. After round five, you almost just went back to bed. Getting burned alive hurt like a bitch, and you really didn't want to endure it anymore. But... 

After what had happened in the last timeline, this pain was nothing in comparison to the guilt you felt.

The next few tries, you plead with Toriel, explained that you had something to do. During one try, you just sobbed incoherently until she killed you. During another, you got on your knees and begged, feeling a lot like when you begged Chara to change their mind. Each time, you never fought, never even gave any inclination that you thought about it. You didn't even have a stick or anything on-hand. 

Finally, you were able to remember her patterns enough to just barely dodge while you plead your case to Toriel. You begged her for forgiveness, and eventually, her attacks lost their spark. She started looking like a tired old woman who had been burned herself too many times.

"I'm the one that should be sorry, my child. I've just... seen too many coffins. I didn't want to see another." She looked off to the side, chewing her lip. You cautiously stepped forward and touched her shoulder, making her jump and meet your gaze. You were crying, but had a soft smile on your face. 

"It's okay. I pro--I won't get killed out there," you amended mid-sentence when you realized you were going to promise. Nope. You wouldn't ever made a promise again. 

Her expression turned tender. "I feel as if we've met before, child, but I can't quite remember..." You looked a little nervous and shrugged vaguely. "Yes, I do believe you'd remember if we had met. After all, it's not every day that a human meets a monster, and vice-versa." Her smile fell around the edges. "Just be careful. There are plenty of monsters that want your soul. Don't let them have it... and... I'm sorry, but I must ask you to never come back here, either."

That sounded familiar; maybe things were back on-script. "I won't. Thank you... Mom. For everything." You replied, deciding to risk a hug. Toriel flinched a little in surprise, but she slowly enveloped you in her furry arms, letting the hug linger for a moment before she pulled back. 

"Go on, my child. Before I change my mind." Her voice sounded watery, but you nodded, unable to look up and see if she was crying. Instead, you went through the doors and heard them lock behind you. 

Outside the Ruins, snow covered the trail through the forest, just as it always had. The familiar sight and the smell of the pines filled you with DETERMINATION. As you walked forward, the crunch of your boots on the snow was drowned out by the loud thump of your heart in your ears. You were nervous, your legs starting to shake. This was the part where you would meet Sans, and you wondered if he would remember everything that had happened. You wondered if he would remember you were a murderer, or that you had selfishly denied him happiness. You wondered if the timeline would be different enough that maybe he wouldn't remember you. Maybe it would be a clean slate. Or maybe you could ask him if he knew what could cause the timeline to deviate as it did. 

Either way, you needed to see him. You needed to confirm that he was all right, that everything was going to be fine. He was your rock throughout the timelines, the one constant that was always there to try to offer advice--even when you had dust all over your hands.

You heard the thick branch smash behind you, and you jumped even though you had been expecting it. Hell, you had been holding your breath in anticipation for it. You were being followed; that was good. That was Sans, trying to be a spooky skeleton for the human. The thought made you smile, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. When you made it to the bridge, the bars still much too wide to prevent access (though was that barbed wire wrapped around the posts?), you heard heavy footsteps right behind you.

"human." 

It was him; it was him! You closed your eyes and felt hot tears slide down your cheeks.

"don't ya know how to greet a new pal?" 

Was his voice different? It was still baritone, but it sounded gravely, the cadence off. 

You hesitated, your eyes slowly reopening. "Sans---"

His name died on your lips. You felt something familiar, a pain that you had once hoped would wash your sins away. Shaking, you looked down to see a crimson-coated large bone sticking out of your abdomen. Your hands uselessly came up, hovering as if they wanted to grab it, but knowing that was useless. Sinking to your knees, your strength drained from your limbs, but you managed to turn you head back around to face your once closest friend.

"you let your guard down, dollface. the weak don't survive long here." 

Your eyes widened. Toriel wasn't the only one that had looked different. Sans's color scheme of blue and white was swapped for black and red, but his clothing wasn't the only change he had undergone. The lights of his pupils were crimson, while his grin was filled with sharp teeth that gave him a predatory look, from which a golden tooth glinted back at you, reminding you of the Judgement Hall. He had a crack on his skull, above his left eyesocket that had never healed properly. 

"S...S....S....a..." You tried to get his name out again, but you were shaking too hard, your teeth clattering together. Were you going into shock from the attack or from his actions? You were too far gone to tell.

The bony ridge of Sans's brow furrowed, his grin faltering at the edges and beginning to morph into a scowl. He reached forward roughly and grabbed a fistful of your hair, jerking your head back closer to him, so he could look you in the eye. His breath smelled like mustard, surprisingly (he hated that condiment), greasy food, and smoke as it fanned hotly against your face, the heat traveling down your neck. It made you aware of just how cold you were feeling.

"how the _fuck_ do you know my name?" 

You leaned back against his hand, your lips still trying to work out syllables. Oh well, it looked like you weren't going to be able to answer him. You brought one hand up, your fingertips coated with your blood, and touched his cheekbone, leaving a smear that looked almost like feline whiskers. He released your hair, jerking back as if he had been electrocuted, and since you had been leaning into his hold, you fell back into the snow. As the world began to fade into black, blurring at the edges, you saw him looking baffled up above you, searching for anything that he might recognize. From his expression, you could tell he found nothing.

Then, the next thing you knew, you were gasping for breath in front of the Ruins exit, clutching your stomach, doubled over in the snow. You mind was a mess, your thoughts fragmented and all over the place.

But the thing you wanted to know the most was clear.

What had happened to Sans?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who doesn't love Underfell Sans?
> 
> There's going to be more AU's besides Underfell and Underswap, but I haven't decided which ones are going to be there past those. I love so many of them that it's hard to choose the order. Which are your favorites?
> 
> Also, I'm working on another fic that will probably just be fluff and smut without the serious-ish storyline. It'll be between Reader (or Frisk?) and Sans, but probably also some of the AU versions, and I'll be taking prompts for it!


	2. *You're a Dirty Sinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Fell!Sans have a nice, long chat.  
> You let him make assumptions. 
> 
> * You're the most selfish person you know, so why change today when there's always tomorrow?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to update this fast because I feel like the first chapter barely even counts since it's just a preface for all the fun AU-hopping that's going to happen. This is going to be at least a once-a-week update, but if I get a chance, it may be twice a week.
> 
> * Smut warning in this chapter; it's definitely NSFW.  
> I initially planned on having it in the next chapter, but it just kinda happened.  
> So enjoy!

You sit with your back against the door to the Ruins, one hand clutching the fabric of your shirt over your abdomen. You can still feel the phantom pain of the bone that Sans had impaled you with, but you aren't even really thinking about that. Instead, you're thinking about how he looked, about how gruff he spoke. You feel like crying again, but you know it won't help you in this situation. Something is wrong. 

Should you **RESET**? 

Hesitantly, you close your eyes and take a calming breath. You can feel the options spark, the little buttons appearing in your mind's eye. But.. something is different. The **RESET** option is off-colored and appears to be cut into pieces and then sloppily mended together. Some of the pieces are disappearing and reappearing like static, and as you raise your hand in front of it, you pause. If it is glitching, perhaps due to the way you ripped control from Chara in the last timeline, then maybe that is what caused things to seem so different this time around. **RESET** ing could make things worse. 

The only person who can really help you figure this out is Sans, or so you hope. 

Sighing, you open your eyes, dismissing the options. Taking the easy way out of a tough situation is what got you into this mess in the first place. You can at least hang in there until you figure out more of what is going on in this timeline. Resolutely, you make your way down the path again, feeling the hairs standing at attention on the back of your neck. 

You know you are being watched.

Only this time, you don't even make it past the thick tree branch in the middle of the path before an arm suddenly shoots out from behind you, wrapping around your shoulders just below your neck. Forcefully, you are jerked backwards against someone's chest, a startled shriek beginning to rip its way out of your mouth. A skeletal hand, freezing cold from the snowy climate, clamps over your mouth to squelch the sound. 

"sweetheart, i've got the feelin' that you and i need to have a nice, long chat."

You can feel his breath against your cheek, its heat driving away the chill on your skin. He still smells like mustard and grease, as if he had been chowing down on a burg and some fries at Grillby's right before he took a shortcut to his post. It's mixed with cigarette smoke, which processes just as strangely in your mind as the mustard does. Sans had a weird fascination with ketchup, and he loathed everything to do with smoking. You know that fact after he had once smelled it on you when you decided to try a cigarette when one of your friends from school offered it to you. After washing all your clothes at his house so Toriel wouldn't smell it either, you had resolutely decided to never smoke again. 

You make a sound in the back of your throat that is supposed to be an affirmative, but he presses his palm rougher against your lips. The bones scratch them slightly, making them ache; they are already chapped from all your earlier crying. You really need to keep it together from now on. You try to look back at him, but your head is pressed against his shoulder ( Wait, he's taller than you. That's new. ) and you can't move it in his hold. All you can see is the gold tooth glinting back at you, making you realize just how _sharp_ his teeth appear. 

"if ya scream, my boss is going to come crash our party. trust me, it's better that he doesn't. he won't hesitate to kill ya for your soul."

_Like you did?_ you think, but wisely don't try to voice. Instead, you nod, wondering who his boss could be. In the past, the only one that really told him what to do during his sentry work was Papyrus, but there was no way he could talk about him like that. He actually sounded a little nervous. 

"smart girl," he murmurs near your ear, and in the next instant, the pressure over your mouth is gone. You breathe in deep and he loosens his grip on you enough that you chance stepping forward to get a little space, though your back instantly feels cold from his missing body heat. As you turn around to face him, his crimson pupils scan over you, searching just like they did when you last died. His gaze makes you feel bare, and you realize just how underdressed you are for the Snowdin weather, your arms crossing over your torso to trap in some body heat. 

You stumble over words, trying to figure out what to say. Finding none that work, you settle on awkwardly checking him out just as intently as he is checking you out. Just like you thought, now he's taller than you; you have to tilt your head back if you want to meet his gaze, your head coming just to the top of his shoulder. His attire isn't much different, even if the colors are; he still favors wearing a jacket and basketball shorts, though he's got sneakers on instead of slippers. Most notably, he's wearing a spiked collar around his neck and there's a chain looped by his thigh. 

But despite all of that, it's definitely still him.

"okay, let's cut to the chase," he breaks the silence, reluctantly tugging his gaze back up to your eyes. You were too busy staring him down to notice which part of your body he found so enthralling. "how the fuck did you do that?"

Your brow furrows a little, and you tilt your head to the side. You had done so many things in such a short amount of time. He was going to have to elaborate. It takes a moment to find your voice. "Do what?"

This wasn't the answer he wanted. Sans's expression visibly darkens, his pupils becoming sharper, and he leans in to roughly grab your upper arm. You glance briefly at his fingers, and he shakes you to draw your attention back to his face. "don't play dumb with me. how did ya come back? and how did you know my name?" His grip is painful, digging into your skin. While your mind is whirling, trying to come up with an answer he would accept, he drags you closer to him, so that your chest is almost grazing his. He's staring at you hard, his teeth set in a scowl. You swallow hard past a sudden lump in your throat, your heart pounding in your chest.

He remembers killing you. But if he doesn't know how you knew his name, maybe that is all he remembered.

"It.. it's just something that happens," you manage, your body trembling. You're not sure if it's because you're freezing out here in the snow or you're terrified of him killing you again. You don't know why that even bothers you; Sans killed you plenty of times in the last timeline. But somehow, you feel like it might not be as instantaneous if he decides to kill you again in this one. 

His phalanges tighten on your arm, and you're sure the skin is going to bruise under his touch. You wince. 

"bullshit."

"It does! Whenever I die, I.. I LOAD back," you insist, meeting his red pupils directly. "And I've... we've... met before. Just in another...timeline." You're tripping over your words, trying to figure out if telling the truth is really in your best interest. You had already decided earlier that if there is anyone that can help you sort this out, it would be him.. but you're unsure if this version of him will even help you. His grip loosens, but he doesn't step away from you; it just becomes less painful.

"so.. you're what? a time-traveler or somethin'? ya expect me to believe that stupid shit?" He's looking at you incredulously, but his scowl has shifted around the edges, like he's fighting back the urge to laugh in your face. Anger is still simmering just behind his eyes, but you've managed to get yourself under control. You don't feel scared of him anymore. 

"Something like that," you agree, remembering a conversation you once had with Sans in the Judgement Hall, during your more-merciful run. Your cheeks start to burn at the thought of saying it aloud, but you steel your resolve and say it anyway. "...I am the Legendary Fart Master."

Sans's expression goes completely lax for a moment, and you feel hope spring in your chest that he remembers his super-secret code word for time travelers. Unfortunately, he stomps all over that hope by laughing--loudly and quite literally in your face. He lets go of your arm and ends up doubled over, clutching his ribs and howling, he's laughing so hard. Your entire face lights up the color of his sweater and you absently rub his arm where he had been holding onto you. Pointedly, you look off at the treeline, trying to ignore the fact that you just made a complete fool of yourself in front of him. You shouldn't care what he thinks, but...

He's still Sans.

"phew, sweetheart... i don't know how hard ya hit your head when you fell down here," he begins, slowly standing upright and wiping a red-tinted tear from his eyesocket. You glance at him from the corner of your eye and see that he's fully grinning now, and despite the fact that it's a grin that could tear you apart, you see your best friend in that smile. "but ya must have knocked somethin' loose. what the hell was that supposed to even mean? fart master--ha!" He breaks into another laugh, and you cross your arms higher, finally turning to meet his gaze again. Seeing this side of him has made you feel more brazen, perhaps because he seems more like the Sans you know. Just.. rough around the edges.

"I didn't hit my head. It's a code word _you_ came up with!" you protest, nearly pouting at the fact that he's managed to embarrass you across time and space. 

He shakes his head, but his smile never dissipates. "yeah right. i'm not that immature. c'mon, who would find that shit funny?" You quirk an eyebrow and fix him with a pointed look. "okay, okay. let's say you're not lyin'. should i test it out?"

His voice drops lower, gruffer, and his left eyesocket flares with crimson light. You can feel his magic building, his grin suddenly seeming so much more menacing. Would he run you through with another bone or three? Would he incinerate you on the spot with a Gaster Blaster? Or maybe he'd use his magic to slam you through a few trees? You wince, but you don't run or plead. 

_You could see the blood splatters on the golden floor of the Judgement Hall._

Holding out your arms, you just stare him down and wait. "Okay, if it'll make you believe me," you state, and your voice doesn't even tremble. You have endured worse. You can take whatever punishment he decides to dish out.

Something about the way you're standing there and the look in your eye is enough to make him hesitate. It annoys him because he never hesitates, but he lets the magic fade from his eyesocket. Slowly, you lower your arms, and he shrugs. "nah, i don't feel like losin' time when ya.. respawn or whatever. i mean, it was you that was causin' the loops earlier, right? i ate the same burg like ten times at grillbz today." You look at him, wide-eyed, recalling how you had been killed by Toriel over and over again. You had no idea that it had actually affected him. He shrugs again at your stare, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "that shit got annoyin' _real_ fast. the only upside is i feel like i got ten burgs for the price of one, and grillbz isn't one to be gipped out of gold." He chuckles, and you wonder what Grillby would be like in this timeline. You don't like the image Sans is already painting. 

"It.. uh, took a few tries to get out of the Ruins," you admit before you realize you're purposely leaving out the mention of Toriel. You can't help but wonder if this Sans knows her, if he would like to make out with her in his kitchen, given the chance. Inwardly, you groan; it's childish and beyond stupid to even be thinking about that anymore after all that you've done. If anything, you should be trying to make amends by getting Sans beyond that door where he can be happy and Toriel doesn't have to be lonely anymore. 

But...

You're still selfish; your heart still longs for the skeleton in front of you. Even as he is now, you can still see glimpses of your best friend (or is that really just what you _want_ to see?) and you're yearning to just step forward, grab onto the front of his sweater, and bury your face in his chest. However, you manage to refrain--just barely. 

"figured." He doesn't show any sign of knowing the caretaker of the Ruins, or of making any kind of promise with her. If he had, you can't imagine he would have killed you on sight. "i mean, i thought you were the anomaly when i saw ya come out of the ruins, but i didn't really realize that ya can come back from the dead. that's useful around here. makes things pretty interesting." Was it your imagination or did he have a slightly deranged look in his eye? It was hard to tell without actual eyeballs. 

Suddenly, his expression changes, and you realize that you can hear noisy stomping come from down the path. "shit, boss's here," he mumbles, suddenly grabbing you by the shoulders. With one hefty shove, he pushes you back into some snow-covered bushes near the trees, their branches ripping your sleeve and both sides of your tights. You shout something in undignified anger, wincing as the scratches draw blood, but he shoves your head further into the frozen foliage. 

"stay down and be quiet," he hisses, and the serious edge to his tone makes you comply. The footsteps have grown nearer, and you find yourself becoming nervous. Still, you crane your head little by little, trying not to shake the bush while you look for a gap in the branches. 

"SANS! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, SLACKING OFF ON THE JOB?! A HUMAN COULD JUST WALTZ BY YOUR POST AT ANY TIME AND YOU'D JUST LET IT HAPPEN! ARE YOU THAT INCOMPETENT?"

You had to stifle a gasp at the scene before you. Papyrus was standing there, taller than ever before and looking sharp... literally. His clothing was black and red, much like his brother's, but his crafted armor was spikey and his cape was ripped to shreds behind him. His teeth were just as sharp as his brother's, his pupils a dark red that was lit up in anger, and a crack went from the top of his skull, down one eyesocket, stopping just below his teeth. 

"relax boss. i was just checking to make sure no humans had come from the ruins." You can see Sans's discomfort from your place on the sidelines, his posture rim-rod straight instead of relaxed. Sweat is beading on the back of his skull.

"HMM.. IS THAT TRUE? I FIND IT DIFFICULT TO BELIEVE THAT SOMEONE AS LAZY AND USELESS AS YOU WOULD ACTUALLY BE ON PATROL."

It's hard to believe that this is actually Papyrus. He still has no concept over an inside tone of voice--or a "hey, I'm right here, no need to shout in my face" speaking voice-- but that had once been an endearing product of his excitement. Now, it sounds like he's just pissed off at everything. 

You think about his last words to you before you had leaned over his head and blew.

You close your eyes and bite your lower lip. 

"welp, believe what ya want, boss."

There is the sound of a few steps closing in, snow crunching beneath a boot with purpose. 

"ARE YOU BACK-TALKING ME, THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS?"

_Terrible?_

"wouldn't dream of it."

The silence stretches, and you begin to get uncomfortable, so you open your eyes again just a sliver. Papyrus has Sans by the front of his sweater, pulling him toward him awkwardly, while Sans keeps his fists balled inside his pockets. They stare each other down for a moment before Papyrus decides something and shoves Sans back, causing the shorter skeleton to grunt. Stepping away, he barks over his shoulder, "JUST GET YOUR GOOD-FOR-NOTHING COCCYX BACK TO YOUR POST BEFORE I DECIDE TO TEACH YOU RESPECT, BROTHER."

Sans mumbles under his breath, but you hear retreating footsteps in the snow. He stands there a moment longer before he finally turns toward the bushes and reaches in to unceremoniously drag you out. Once you're free from the snowy brush, you realize your sweater is soaked through, you're bleeding, and your hair is tangled and matted with both snow and bits of branches. Sans's look is disapproving, his gaze lingering on the rips in your tights and your soaked sweater. 

"you look like hell." He bats some of the snow from your hair, messing it up further in the process. It gets tangled in his fingers and hurts when he pulls his hand back. 

"Geez, let me do it. You're going to rip our all my hair," you shoot back, batting his hands away and trying to fix your hair yourself. He looks amused at your irritation, and as much as you don't want to bring it up, you can't help the next words from tumbling past your lips, "So, Papyrus is your boss?"

You regret that query instantly. His expression darkens, and he's reminded that there's something strange about you. You haven't quite explained the timeline thing to him yet, and he seems to remember how important that is. 

"so you know pap, too?" he says flatly, suspicion in his tone. You start to answer, already nodding, but he silences you by grabbing your arm again and jerking you against him. You barely get a chance to catch yourself with your palm against his chest, and your chin hits his sternum. "save it for a second, dollface. this ain't the place to have this talk."

You're confused until you feel a sudden weightlessness, like someone just uppercut your stomach into your throat and stole all your air. In the next instant, everything has shifted. You're no longer in the snow, feeling the cold bite through your sweater and inadequate tights. Instead, you're inside somewhere warm and familiar, and the sudden change leaves you disoriented. Sans steps back and you stumble forward, your equilibrium shot. With a sigh, he catches you by the shoulders and steers you backwards, until the backs of your legs hit something. Then, he gives you a rough shove that leaves you falling backward into a comfortable--albeit lumpy--couch. 

You'd recognize this living room anywhere. Not much has changed from what you can see, but you don't get a chance to give the place a thorough once-over before Sans plops down next to you, his knees stretched out enough to almost touch one of yours. He leans back in the cushions, his arms spread out across the back of the couch. After a moment, you don't feel quite as dizzy as you had before, and breathe out heavily. 

"Give me a warning before you teleport next time? I wasn't ready," you claim, while Sans just smirks.

"hey, since you seem to know me and my bro, i figured you knew about my shortcuts too."

"That doesn't mean I don't need to be mentally prepared first," you grumble, crossing your arms defiantly. Well, you were going for defiant but it was really because your clothes were wet and even though it was warm in his house, you were still cold. 

"okay, okay. so, tell me something about the 'other timeline' then." He uses air quotes, and you roll your eyes. Sitting on the couch like this with him feels like the most natural thing in the world. Even if his voice sounds a little different, as long as you're looking at the bones of his leg stretched out in front of him, you can let yourself believe everything is all right... that you're really just relaxing in his living room on a day where you decided to ditch your responsibilities. 

"What do you want to know?" 

"i dunno. what was it like? what was _i_ like? what's my favorite food? how do we know each other?"

"Your favorite food was ketchup, if that counts." He grimaces at that remark and shudders, his bones practically rattling. 

"gross. i hate the stuff. are ya sure you even knew me?"

You nod, a smile crossing your lips. "The first time you drank ketchup straight was on a dare--or so you told me. I think you'd been drinking at Grillby's and someone dared you to drink the bottle, and so you did. You actually liked the taste and kept doing it just to freak people out. You even spiked your ketchup with whiskey sometimes. Said it was a monster version of a Bloody Mary. I called it a Bloody Skele." Your grin increased and Sans stared at you for a moment, before he starts laughing. 

"that's a terrible name for a drink. and... yeah, well.. it was that stupid mutt that dared me to drink the mustard, and i don't back down from a dare. especially when two dogs get involved. then you might call it a _double dog dare_." You shift so you are sitting sideways on the couch, one of your legs tucked under the opposite. Your knee touches his thigh, but he doesn't jump, so you don't move it. You can't help but grin wide at his joke, happy that even this version of him was still has a penchant for comedy. 

"So, basically the same thing happened, but with mustard."

"sounds like it. though, i'm more of a vodka drinker. gets ya fucked up faster in my book." He seems more relaxed now that you're proving that you knew him--well, another version of him. "what else?"

You shrug, and your head leans against the side of the cushion your shoulder's buried into. His arm is still stretched out across the top of the couch, so the top of your head touches it. You initiated this physical contact on purpose; you need the touch, to feel that he is really there. It used to be so easy between the two of you when you were sitting on his couch together. Sans would put on some stupid movie, or goad you into watching a horror film with him, and by the end of the night, you'd end up buried against his side with his arm draped around your shoulders. He'd chuckle every time a jump scare got you and comfortingly rub his skeletal fingers along your upper arm. 

You need that easy physical contact right now. You need just a sliver of his comfort, even if he doesn't remember you. Even if none of that had happened between the two of you now. 

"Hmmm..." You pretend to be thinking of something that had happened, but really, you're just focused on the feeling of his femur pressing against your kneecap, and his arm resting against your head. The urge to hug him and both beg for his forgiveness and demand to know why he hadn't chosen you is still brimming just beneath the surface, barely contained. So, you try to distract yourself. "I can't tell how different things were in my timeline. You didn't curse much, and you and Papyrus..." He begins to look a little tense, and you hurriedly continue, "You adore him, and he's the biggest sweetheart, always excited about everything." Sans looks a little surprised, but shrugs.

"who says i don't adore pap now? he's great, and i want to do what i can to help him be even greater." Now, it's your turn to look surprised; from the conversation you witnessed between the two of them, it looked as if their relationship is strained. He notices your look. "what? i practically raised pap, and i raised him to not be a little chicken shit. he can take care of himself, and he's head of the royal guard." He pauses for a moment, while you feel shocked to hear that. In this timeline, it seems that Papyrus has finally achieved his dream. That makes him an actual human-hunter, you suppose, but you also think to yourself that humans falling into the Underground are few and far between, so it's unlikely that he's actually captured one. Sans seems to pick up on the same train of thought. 

"but i guess if i really wanted to do that, i should turn you over to him." You stiffen, staring at him wide-eyed. Would he really? But he just shrugs again and grins. "'course, that would be dumb. if anyone tried to get your soul, you're just come back. so what's the point?" You visibly relax, you head resting against his arm again. 

"That's true. Then we'd be right back here," you comment, trying to keep things light. It doesn't look like he had even given much thought to handing you over, likely too intrigued over the fact that you know him from another timeline. Or perhaps he feels a sense of déjà vu when he looks at you, as Toriel had. You decide to ask him about it. "Do you... feel like you know me at all, Sans?"

He stares at you hard, his gaze searching over you just as it had on the snowy path. "kinda," he admits, shifting a little so that his femur pressed harder against your knee. "it's like.. lookin' at you, i feel like i should know ya. most monsters would jump at the chance to kill ya, and well.. i killed you, too. if ya didn't come back, that would've been the end of that." He pauses, and you remember the way he looked at you as you laid in the snow, bleeding out.. like he was looking for something he couldn't find in you. "but, i.. well, i don't have any need to kill ya now. it won't do me any good. sittin' like this with ya, though.. feels familiar. it's hard to explain."

You jump on that. "No, we used to sit on the couch all the time and just watch TV," you eagerly add, and he looks thoughtful as he nods, like he's trying to remember those times. He can't, however, no matter how hard he tries. 

"what else? tell me more about.. well, me."

"You wore a blue jacket and a white T-shirt." 

He laughs at that, a smirk crossing his face. "first ketchup, now blue? i hate that color. red's way better around here." You don't ask him why he prefers red; you feel like you probably wouldn't like the answer. "ya sure you're not just makin' shit up?"

You bristle, fixing him with a look. You try to think of as many facts that you can that might actually be true in this timeline. "You love jokes and puns; you come across as lazy, but you actually work several jobs; you love the stars, and you actually used to be a scientist." You've already heard him crack a joke and seen that he still has the sentry job, so you know those details are probably a safe bet. You take a chance on astronomy and his scientific background, using that to probe and see if maybe he will be able to help you. If he never had a passion for science, then you're probably boned. 

As you speak, his smirk slowly fades. He looks at intently, his brow bone furrowing slightly. He's leaning closer, though he doesn't move his arm away from your head. "if you know that much about me... then, tell me something, sweetheart. what are you to me?" You're caught off-guard, and you try to sit upright, but his hand moves beside your head to catch it, preventing you from leaning back as he leans forward. "not even papyrus knows i used to work at the lab. hardly anyone does, aside from that crazy reptile bitch. that's somethin' that happened when pap was just still a babybones."

You swallow hard. "You.. you told me, years ago. After you showed me what's in your basement." Hope bubbles in your chest over the fact that he really did used to work in the Lab--along with something else bubbling to the surface as well. He is so close now that you can feel his body heat, and it makes you shiver. He seems to notice, his gaze dropping to your dress, lingering on the way that it clings to your curves. You shiver for a different reason.

"are you cold?" he asks, the question an abrupt change that takes you a second to process. You're still staring at his face, your eyes flickering between his pointed teeth and his glowing pupils. When he drags his gaze back to yours, you realize your face is flushed and your heart is trying to escape your chest. 

"Y..Yeah, a little bit," you manage, your voice coming out a little thick. Your fingers twist in the hem of your dress as you fight back the rising urge to reach out and touch him. 

He smirks again. "okay. welp, this is your warning."

Confusion fills your gaze at that, and you open your mouth to question him. "Wha--?"

The question gets cut off as you're teleported again. His warning didn't help; you're still so disoriented, especially since you were sitting, that when you reappear, you land on something bouncy and collapse backward to lie on your back. Sans chuckles, and you groan, staring up at the ceiling and trying to get your bearings. 

"you said to warn ya, so i did."

"Some warning," you groan, attempting to sit up. However, Sans suddenly fills your vision, one hand planting on either side of your head, and you lie back down. In one fluid motion, he's straddling you, his knees on either side of your hips, though only his patellas are touching you. From the bounce beneath you, you belatedly realize that you're lying on his mattress; he had teleported you upstairs. Your heart has jumped into your throat so hard that you can barely draw a breath. 

"Sans, what are--?" You can barely get the words out; you're not even sure you want to finish that question. 

"you said you're cold, right, sweetheart?" You barely nod, yours eyes locked with his. "well, shouldn't ya get out of those wet clothes?" His voice is low and husky, laced with a promise you understand.

You feel your face turn scarlet, and your hand automatically rises to press your palm against his chest. You're not sure if you were intending on pushing him back or not, but your fingers clench in his sweater, and then your other hand comes up to grab the edge of his jacket. 

"I'm.. I'm okay. I'm not.. that cold," you whisper, though you're not even convinced by your own voice. He smirks again, leaning down, lowering his body until his forearms are supporting his weight instead of his palms. His pelvis brushes against yours lightly, and you involuntarily jerk up on the mattress. Coherent thought is difficult.

"i think i've figured it out," he claims, though you're barely paying attention to his words. Every nerve in your body is focused on him-- the way his forearms brush your shoulders, the way his ribs protrude through his sweater, the feeling of the thick fabric of his jacket twisted in your fingers. You have been dreaming of this moment since you hit puberty and realized your feelings for the skeletal comedian extended way beyond simple friendship. You make a sound in the back of your throat, one that you had picked up from him as an _active listening_ skill whenever he zoned out while Papyrus was recounting his exciting day. 

Sans takes it as a sign to go on and continues, "there's only one reason why you'd know so much about me, why i'd tell ya all of my secrets like that." His fingers move to twist in the back of your hair and pull, forcing your head to tilt back. He leans in closer, his breath fanning against your lips. Your breathing is shallow; even though his grip on you hair kind of hurts, you find that you like it. 

"and that's 'cause you must be _mine_ ," he finishes, but before you can process that statement, he closes the gap between your mouths, his teeth pressing to your lips. It's your first kiss with a skeleton, but instead of the chaste peck you expected it to me, his mouth is moving against yours, coaxing your lips apart. Your eyes slide closed and you melt back into the mattress, aware of a tinge of red light behind your closed eyelids before you feel something wet and unyielding slip into your mouth. _His tongue_ your mind supplies in your haze, and you tentatively brush your own tongue against his. He tastes just like his breath smells, like greasy food and smoke, but you can feel the magic thrumming in his tongue, sending an electrifying feeling through you and straight to your abdomen. You squirm without meaning to, and his fingers tighten in your hair. You can feel him groan into the kiss, his breath filling your mouth, and you involuntarily moan.

Your fingers drop from his coat, to slip around his side, trying to drag him closer against you. He complies, lowering himself so that his body is aligned with yours, but his weight is still supported on his arms. Both of your arms circle around him, fingers digging into his crimson sweater, your back arching slightly off the mattress. You can only think of getting closer to the skeleton, of pressing your body to his and having him crush you against his chest. His teeth graze your lips and you feel a prick that may have drawn blood, but you don't care. You bite his tongue, though not too hard, and he suddenly sucks in a breath. His hand releases your hair, but his arm wedges itself between your back and the mattress, pulling you up against his chest just like you wanted, and you cling to him desperately.

_Don't let go._

_Please._

Internally, you're pleading, both to yourself and him. You need this. You need him. Your mind is trying to replay what he said, to make sense of how you ended up making out with him on his bed, but you're desperately pushing away that rational part of you. If it wins, you know this will end.

And for the life of you, you don't want it to end.

His arm lifts you up enough to start bunching your sweater dress above your hips, trying to tug it further up your torso without breaking the kiss. You know you should be embarrassed, but you're so distracted by the way his tongue is rolling skillfully within your mouth that you can't process much more. The tingle of magic feels incredible; you find yourself sucking on his tongue, then nipping it, eliciting groans and gasps from Sans. Finally, he's gotten a good grip on the hem of your sweater and pulls back just enough to yank it over your head and toss it off to some corner of his room. 

You feel cold without your sweater, your face flushed and your lips a little swollen from the kiss when he looks down at you. "damn, sweetheart. you're hot as fuck," he states, his voice even more gravelly than usual. Your eyes are half-lidded, and you're convinced you must be dreaming. Your mind tries to whisper reason to you, but you firmly choose not to listen. 

_Just a little more._

He's staring at your chest, concealed by your favorite bra, the one that accentuates what curves you have. His teeth graze your collar bone and you tilt your head to the side, closing your eyes again. One of his hands has worked a strap off your shoulder, and he nips the juncture of your neck and shoulder. Your fingers find the vertebrae of his neck, your fingernails scraping the boney processes on the back of them. He bites down a little harder, groaning, before licking the mark with his tongue, that tingle of magic making you gasp lightly. His head trails lower, and he doesn't even bother with trying to unhook your bra; instead, he just takes a cup in one of his hands and jerks it upside-down, the underwire forcing your breast upward. You tense, feeling exposed, but the instant his tongue circles around your nipple, you cry out. His tongue is magical-- _literally._ The electrifying sensation is overwhelming; you can feel it tighten and pool in your core, and you squirm beneath his pelvis in response. Your face is flushed both from the wonderful feeling and abashment over being so vocal. He smirks against your breast, lightly grazing it with the point of one of his teeth, then lapping over it again with his tongue. You shudder and squirm, fingernails racking against his vertebrae, while your other hand digs under his sweater and touches the underside of one of his ribs. 

He practically growls, shuddering above you. You had learned what Sans liked one day, when you got curious enough about his anatomy to "accidentally" slip your hand under his T-shirt and touch his ribs. His face had flushed bright blue and he had shivered, playing it off with a _watch where you're touching, kiddo._ From what you can tell now, it had been a good shiver. There is something solid poking you in the thigh, and you feel like any questions you had regarding skeleton anatomy and the bone zone are about to be answered.

Sans grinds his hips against yours, pressing the hardness against your center, and even with the thin barrier of your ripped tights and your panties, as well as the fabric of his basketball shorts, you could feel the heat emanating from it, just like in his tongue. Likely, it consists of magic, and if that's true.. then you could only imagine what it would feel like. You want to know, to experience it first-hand. Your fingers curl around one of his ribs, and then move to shove his sweater up so you can feel his bones scrape against your stomach. The fingers of your other hand have shifted up to his skull, idly tracing the pattern of the crack on it, trying not to think about _why_ it's fractured. 

His tongue trails along the plain of your abdomen, while one of his hands grips your bare breast. The rough bone of his thumb grazes the nipple, rolling around it in a circle that leaves you gasping and moaning, pressing your thighs together. 

"sweetheart, i bet you're _drippin'_ with anticipation," Sans says as his hand moves to the waistband of your tights, two of his fingers dipping just below the elastic. He's right; you can feel the fact that your thighs are soaked and you want to desperately feel his fingers, his tongue, his _everything_ against the bundle of nerves he's hovering above. He raises his face to meet your half-lidded, glazed eyes, and he's smirking. His cheekbones are flushed with his magic, giving them a red glow that matches the lights of his pupils and his luminescent tongue. He begins pulling your ripped tights down slowly, shimmying them along your hips, and you raise up to make it easier on him. However, before he even gets them past your panties, he lets go of the elastic, causing it to snap against your pelvis. You wiggle in disappointment, and he chuckles, pulling himself back up along your body until his face is level with yours.

"how bad do you want me?" he murmurs against your lips, trailing his tongue along your lower lip right after. You tilt your head to slip your tongue into his mouth, but he pulls back just enough to deny you access. "tell me."

"I.. I want you," you manage, your voice thick and caught in your throat. He hums, waiting for you to continue. Your fingers find the front of the spiked collar around his neck and you tug on it, pulling his teeth flush to your mouth in an effort to show him how much instead of vocalizing it. It must have been the correct answer because he growls in response, his bones vibrating against your chest, and he shucks off his jacket. You bite his tongue, harder than before, but he clearly loves it. His hands find your waistband again and he starts to tug it further down your thighs. However, when his fingers find the slick wetness on the inside of your thigh, he groans into your mouth and rips your flimsy tights apart. If they hadn't already been torn, you would have protested, but as it is now, you're too enraptured in his kiss to care. You flail your legs a little until you're able to kick off your boots, allowing them to thud against the carpet, but your tights are still halfway covering your legs, pooled below your knees and ripped down the middle so your legs are no longer bound together. 

His fingers probe at your center through your panties, finding them completely soaked through. "damn," he groans against your mouth, pulling back just enough to glance down at his fingers. Just from rubbing them along the inside of your thighs and around your panties, his digits are glistening with your desire. "that's fuckin' sexy. _you're_ fuckin' sexy," he claims, raising his hand up to his mouth and meeting your eyes. Deliberately, he slowly runs his tongue along his fingers, licking them clean, and you feel your face grow even hotter as you watch. 

Yeah, you're definitely dreaming. Either that, or you're in a coma somewhere. You decide to just not care. Your body feels like it's on fire, every nerve is screaming for his touch, and you want nothing more than to be with him in every sense of the word. 

You try to reach down, to grab at the waistband of his shorts, to make things a little more even. Sans stops you, however, grabbing your wrists and shaking his head. "don't worry; just let me do everything, sweetheart. although... i know what we can do with your hands." He smirks, releasing one of your wrists to reach down and grab the chain affixed to his hip. You know you should be worried when he pulls your arms above your head and loops the chain through his headboard, then wraps the links around your wrists and binds them together over your head... but...

You actually find it pretty sexy, letting him do whatever to you. And you trust him completely.

 _He's not the same Sans_ your mind tries to tell you, but you reject that reality and substitute your own. 

Sans slowly moves lower over your body, taking his time getting back to your waist. He runs his tongue along your neck, swirls it around each of your nipples, stopping there to lightly graze one with his teeth when you cried out and arched your back completely off the mattress. Your knees are on either side of his hips, squeezing them, trying to draw him closer to you, but he's having fun teasing you and taking his time. He grazes a tooth down your side, to the curve of your hip, and bites the crest of your pelvis. Your hips buck, and he presses your clit through your panties with his thumb. You feel like you're on fire, and you're gasping, moaning out broken starts of words that you can't quite form. 

His thumb slips past your panties and easily glides through your drenched folds. You moan even louder, your eyes clenched shut; you can tell he's watching your reactions, and it's embarrassing. Abruptly, he jerks your panties down your legs completely, discarding them somewhere in his room. You feel a rush of cold air, but his hands grip your thighs steadily and push them apart. His breath is hot against your core, and you find yourself holding your breath in anticipation. Another second passes, then another... and you begin to squirm, trying to buck your hips closer to him. He holds your legs down and you can feel his breathy laugh against your skin. 

"open your eyes."

The request embarrasses you even more, but you find yourself complying, looking down at his face hovering between your legs. He's smirking, his tongue rolled out from his teeth. Without breaking eye contact, he lowers his head down and laps his tongue firmly along your folds once. You gasp sharply, the chains digging into your wrists as you involuntarily jerk against them. The magic in his tongue sent tingles rippling through you, stimulating each nerve. It was enough to almost undo you. Pleased with your reaction, he gives you another slow, sensuous lick, his tongue swirling around your bundle of nerves. You cry out, moaning loudly, arching your back. His tongue dips down to your entrance, just barely sliding in, and he has to push on your thighs to stop you from bucking against his face. You can't be still; it's like nothing you've ever experienced before. He pushes his tongue in a little deeper, undulating it against your walls, and you start getting embarrassed over the noises you're making. 

"you taste so good, sweetheart. i can't get enough. and it sounds like you can't either."

The smirk is evident in his voice, and he lazily trails his tongue along your clit for good measure. You're so close... so close! Just another good lick or two and you'll come undone. You're trembling, your wrists pulling against the chains, making them rattle against the headboard. The sound seems distant over the blood pounding in your ears, though.

As if sensing your climax is building, Sans stops his oral ministrations to sit back on his knees. You're aware that hurt crosses your expression (he can't just leave you here like this and not finish the job), but it's quickly erased when you see him pull his shorts down past his hips. The firmness that had been poking you earlier is now clearly a magical phallus, made of the same red energy as his tongue. Unlike his tongue, it doesn't appear as bendable and pliant, but its girth and length is formidable. You begin to worry about it hurting, and you start to vocalize your concerns.

"Sans, I..."

He looks at you and smiles, and you swear that you can see your best friend in that smile. 

"just relax. i'll go in easy," he says, his voice still low and husky. He leans back over your body, bracing his weight with an arm bent by your head, and slowly positions himself between your legs. His member slides along your soaked folds, the magic within it sparking your nerves just as intensely as his tongue had. You feel him poise the head at your entrance, and you look up into his eyesockets.

"Sans..."

He stares back at you, pausing at the sound of your voice. He looks like he's barely restraining himself.

"Kiss me."

You need this kiss; you need to feel loved and connected, even if a part of your mind is trying to scream at you. He doesn't even hesitate as he indulges you, slipping his tongue past your lips automatically. At the same time, he mimics what his tongue was doing by shifting his hips forward, pressing against your entrance. You're so wet at this point that he's able to slip inside most of the way with minimal discomfort. The feeling of the magic sets every one of your nerves alight and you press your mouth harder to his to muffle a loud moan. He groans loudly in return, his fingers digging into your hip so hard that he may have broken the skin. You raise your legs to properly hook them around his hips, and with one desperate pull, you tug him all the way inside you. Both of you gasp, and he shudders, keeping completely still and buried all the way to the hilt. Slowly, he starts moving, in and out, each motion drawing another moan. He begins to pick up his pace, gripping your hip firmly, using it to draw your hips flush to him. You can feel him stretching you out, reaching a place deep within you that was especially responsive to the electric thrum of his magic. 

He's stopped kissing you, too distracted by the feeling of your legs tightening around his hips, drawing him in as deep as possible. You're straining against the chains on your wrists, desperate to claw at the back of his shirt, which is pushed up to his armpits so his ribs scrape up against your breasts. Each sensation is too much, each thrust bringing you ever-closer to that crest. You want it to last longer, but you can't hold on anymore. You're gasping, trying to form words, and then he's kissing you as hard as he's thrusting. You climax with a loud series of moans, your hands twisting in the chains and your knees squeezing his pelvis so hard that he has trouble moving inside of you. Sans pants, thrusting a few more times while you ride out your orgasm with your eyes clenched shut. You can feel a new heat inside of you, and part of you wonders about the linguistics of magical semen, but you don't feel like asking him.

There's a moment where neither of you move, but you're both panting and Sans's forehead is resting against yours, his breath fanning across your flushed face. You finally manage to open your eyes and stare up at him to find him watching you. He reaches over your head and unhooks the chain, freeing your wrists. You're too spent to even rub your tender skin, so you just let them rest uselessly on the mattress above your head while you attempt to catch your breath.

His magic fades, and you suddenly feel vacant and sore. You're coming down from your sexual high, and now everything is starting to hurt. Sans pulls up his shorts and adjusts his shirt, rolling so he can collapse on his back beside you rather than on top of you. He looks like he wants to say something, but he hesitates. You can't seem to find the right words, either. 

_I love you._

_But it's not_ really _him._

There's too much to say. Your mind is starting to catch up with you in the silence. Luckily, Sans moves and rolls off the mattress, to go dig through his dresser. You watch him, shifting to prop yourself up on your elbows and adjust your bra. Tenderly, you rub your wrists; the skin around them is bright pink. 

"here. you can wear these," he says, tossing a black long-sleeved sweater and a pair of boxers your way. You realize they're his clothes and think about trying to find your own in the mess of dirty clothes and food wrappers littering the floor, but decide against it. 

"Thanks," you say as you pull the sweater over your head. It's nearly as long as the sweater dress you had been wearing, but it's much too baggy and the sleeves have to be rolled up to fit right. You peel off what's left of your tights and then slip on the shorts, tightening the drawstrings until they won't automatically fall off your hips. 

"gotta say, ya look good in my clothes," Sans mentions as he sits down on the mattress beside you again. You lie back against the pillows, and he does the same, shifting only to pull a blanket up over the both of you. You smile in response, but you're having trouble now that your mind isn't preoccupied. You try to push it away, to focus on how nice it had felt to sleep with Sans, but...

You're the most selfish person to ever exist. How could you? Did you even stop to think for one second about what you were doing?

Your eyes are rapidly filling with tears, but Sans doesn't notice; he's staring at the ceiling in thought. He's been different ever since you both came down from your climatic high, clearly mulling something over. You worry about that, too, your insecurities and inexperience crashing to the surface. 

"hey, sweetheart.. how did you end up in another timeline... if you were with a different version of me in that one?"

_We weren't together. You just assumed we were._

"did something happen?"

_You broke my heart._

"did you die?"

You visualize yourself, battered and broken in the Judgement Hall.

"... did i die?"

You see the crimson slash across his chest just before you managed to wrest control of the **RESET** from Chara. 

"sweetheart?"

When he turns to face you, you realize you're crying. Your entire body is shaking, and you lift your weak arm (it feels like jello) up to press the heel of your palm against your face. Sans slides his arm under your head and pulls you over onto his chest, urging you to roll toward him. You comply, curling against his side with your head on his chest, and you reach across him and grab a fistful of his sweater. You sob loudly, gasping for air, your entire body shaking, while he absently trails his fingers along your spine. 

"S...som...something baaa...bad... happ..ppened," you finally manage to get out between watery sobs. You want to tell him the truth, that he had only assumed that you were his girlfriend from another timeline. 

"it's okay, sweetheart. nothin' bad's gonna happen now."

But when he was saying everything you wanted to hear, you couldn't break the illusion. You had gone too far and gotten caught up in the omitted truth. You were too emotionally drained to deal with this right now. You just wanted to sleep, perhaps forever. 

Sans kept trailing his fingers along your back, and you found it soothing. Your grip remained tight on his sweater, and you scooted closer to him, hooking one of your legs around his. There was a big wet spot on his chest from your tears, and you tried to pull the fabric to the side so you wouldn't have to sleep with your cheek on it. For a while, you were silent, listening to your own breathing since Sans didn't have a heart-beat. When his hand stilled on your back, you assumed he had fallen asleep; you could feel your body getting heavier as you started to drift off, too. 

You sucked in a breath and exhaled it shakily. "Sans.. I'm sorry..." Your voice was barely audible, but it made you feel a little better to say it out loud. You didn't elaborate on your apology; there was simply too much to apologize for at this point. You could think about what had happened between you later. You could process your selfishness, this timeline, and your heavy guilt over your loss of innocence tomorrow. 

For now, you just let sleep claim you while you cuddled against Sans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By now, you've probably realized that this trash of a fic is going to be the Reader sinning her way through the AU's, right? There's going to be a plot, but some of the AU's are going to be silly, some serious, and some just filled with skele-hawtness. There's going to be a companion-ish fic I plan on working on once this one picks up a bit of momentum with fluff and sexy prompts galore. 
> 
> I'm taking suggestions/votes for AU's you want to see in this fic! I have a ton in mind, but depending on what you guys suggest will determine which ones the Reader goes into next!  
> So far, there's 3 votes for Swapfell and 2 for Dancetale, so they're leading.


	3. *You're a terrible listener

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fell!Sans goes to work, but tells you to stay in the house. You decide to go exploring instead.  
> Apparently, a burg and fries at Grillby's is worth risking your life over. 
> 
> * You discover that kill or be killed is the creed of this timeline, and you don't like it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week is going to have two updates, so keep an eye out for the next one.

Voices from downstairs wake you up, and despite spending two nights in this timeline, it takes you a moment to realize you're back Underground. It feels like both an instant and an eternity since you've been on the Surface, and the moment coherent thought slips back into your mind, you have to fight a groan and bury your face back into your pillow. Why couldn't they let you sleep just a little longer?

You feel like shit.

"YOU NEVER CAME BACK TO YOUR POST! I CHECKED. SO DON'T EVEN LIE TO ME, SANS!"

You can hear Papyrus shouting from either the living room or the kitchen, and he's literally throwing a tantrum and stomping his feet. If you were in your own timeline, waking up in the skelebros' house would mean waking up to Papyrus's cooking. Recently, he had attempted to blend spaghetti into pancakes by pouring marinara sauce and noodles into the batter. They had been absolutely horrible, and after you had taken a big bite in front of him and forced a smile, Sans had come to your rescue by distracting his brother while you spit it out. 

Part of you wonders if this Papyrus even cooks. You find yourself hoping that he does.

You can hear the low murmur of Sans's voice as he responds, but he's speaking too low for you to hear him through the closed bedroom door. Moving to eavesdrop would take too much effort, so you remain lying on the bed and reach over to grab his pillow. Pulling it over your head, you attempt to block out the noise and go back to sleep, but it's impossible. The pillow smells just like him--hell, you're surrounded by the scent of Sans and sex--which conjures vivid memories of the night before. Your legs rub together, and you realize just how sore you are. He was rough, and you loved every moment of it.

It made you forget.

But you couldn't forget forever.

"YOU'RE JUST LAZY! A SORRY EXCUSE FOR A MONSTER! I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHY SOMEONE AS GREAT AND UTTERLY TERRIFYING AS ME HAD TO BE GIVEN SUCH A USELESS SACK OF BONES FOR A BROTHER! JUST WHAT IN THE HELL WERE YOU DOING?! AND DON'T GIVE ME THAT LAME PATROL LIE AGAIN!"

You press the pillow tighter against your ears. Listening to Papyrus makes you want to go down there and get in the middle of the argument just because it's so strange to hear him actually be angry with Sans. Sure, he may groan at his puns or chide him for sleeping on the job, but he would never be cruel to him. He could never be cruel to anyone.

_I STILL BELIEVE IN YOU._

You roll over on your side, the pillow still clamped over your face.

_YOU CAN DO A LITTLE BETTER._

No, you really can't. Yesterday had proven that to you. Your sins kept growing. Not only had you broken your promise and stolen a proper Happy Ending from Sans and your friends, but you had proceeded to murder all of them and then somehow seduce an alternate version of your best friend (whom you were crazy about) because he inevitably thought you were his time-traveling lover or some shit like that. 

Yeah, you may have had a merciful streak the first couple of times you went through the Underground, but that didn't mean you were a good, self-sacrificing person. It just meant you didn't beat all the monsters you encountered to death with a stick or gouge out their eyes with the pointy end or something--whatever it was that monsters thought humans were capable of. You had plenty of opportunities to push Sans away last night, to tell him you weren't actually _his_ (although you wanted to be), and that if he knew what you had done, he would rather turn you over to Papyrus than touch you. 

But you didn't.

You let yourself drown in the illusion. It was what you had always wanted, to be held by Sans, to feel like you mattered to him. This Sans was different, you knew, but you couldn't stop drawing comparisons between the two and trying to reason with yourself that he was _still_ Sans. He just didn't have any concrete memories of you. 

"YOU'RE GOING TO WORK TODAY IF I HAVE TO DRAG YOU THERE BY YOUR RIDICULOUS COLLAR MYSELF! IF I CATCH YOU AWAY FROM YOUR POST, I'M GOING TO BREAK YOUR FUCKING LEGS!" 

You hear Sans mutter a reply, and you slowly let the pillow uncurl from your head. If Papyrus drags him away, does that mean you'll be left in his house alone all day? After a moment of listening, you don't hear anyone moving downstairs. Finally, Papyrus breaks the silence, so suddenly that you jump.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU WAITING FOR, SANS?!"

This time you hear Sans's voice raise, but you still aren't sure what he says in response. The front door slams so hard that the house shakes and you hear snow fall from the roof. Papyrus makes a strangled shouting noise from below and stomps his boots against the floorboards. The stomping tantrum is familiar, but when this version of him does it, you feel a little nervous. You've never _ever_ been scared of Papyrus, even the first time you met him. The fact that you don't particularly want to face him now unnerves you. 

As soon as you hear the door close again, signaling that Papyrus has also left for the day, Sans appears at the end of the bed. You nearly jump out of your skin and cover your mouth with your hand, aware that you probably need to be somewhat quiet with Papyrus still undoubtedly nearby.

"Don't do that!" you hiss, throwing his pillow at him. He grins and easily side-steps the projectile, and it lands in the clutter on his floor. 

"didn't mean to scare ya, sweetheart." He walks around the bed, coming over to your side and sits so that he's facing you. He's wearing his black jacket and red sweater again, bits of snow clinging to the fabric and giving his jacket fluffy white spots. "did'ja sleep all right?"

He's searching your face, and you vividly remember sobbing into his chest instead of enjoying the post-coital bliss like you always saw in movies. Your face starts to heat up and you drop you gaze to the fur lining the hood of his jacket. "Yeah, I slept fine. I didn't even feel you get up," you admit. It had felt strange waking up alone, like everything that had transpired had only been a dream. But from the bruises on your wrists and the chain still looped through the headboard behind you, you know that it had been quite real. 

And so good.

He shrugs lightly. "boss was stompin' around pretty early, and i didn't want to chance him knocking my door down and findin' ya." You feel grateful. You know that meeting Papyrus will likely suck (will he try to kill you on sight? or will he put you through puzzles first? Either way, you're not prepared to face him. Especially not when you still see him standing there, his arms outstretched as he spares you. 

You want to ask if Papyrus still enjoys cooking. You want to ask if he made his outfit himself and refuses to take it off, even when he showers. But instead, you ask, "Did Papyrus get mad that you left yesterday?"

Sans's grin fades around the edges, starting to become a scowl. "he was pretty pissed. unfortunately, i'm gonna have to go to work today, at least for a little while." He looked to you, his hand touching your thigh through the blankets. Even that touch was enough to make you blush, remembering just what those skeletal fingers were capable of. "you need to stay here, ok? if ya go out, you're just gonna get killed, and i've still got questions for ya." 

You raise your gaze back to his eyes and find his crimson pupils piercing into yours. So, he had shown mercy last night when he didn't press you over what had happened in the other timeline. Obviously, he wasn't going to let it just hang in the air, even if you wanted to never tell him the truth. You panic slightly, shifting to sit up higher in the bed, which jerks your leg away from his hand. He notices and narrows his eyesockets, scooting closer toward you and deliberately placing his hand back on your thigh. His fingers squeezed it through the blanket so hard that his grip is almost painful. 

"A-all right, but what about food?" You ask, not particularly wanting to spend the day in his bedroom. 

"there's some in the fridge. just keep an eye out for boss, ok? he should be on patrol all day, though." He pauses, and you want to protest, but you manage to stop yourself. You really just want to distract him from asking questions. Sans sucks in a deep breath. "look, sweetheart... i don't know what happened in the other timeline, but we're gonna talk about it. i wanna make sure it doesn't happen again." You bite the inside of your lip and nod, and he leans forward, snaking the fingers of his free hand through the back of your tangled hair. "you're mine, got it? and i take care of what's mine." Just as your eyes widen, he closes the distance between your mouths, his teeth automatically parting your lips for a deep kiss. You find yourself melting into the touch, eagerly rubbing your tongue against his, while your fingers balled in the front of his jacket. Reluctantly, he finally pulls back, but there's a fire burning in his pupils that promises more when he gets off work.

"Okay, Sans. We'll talk when you get home," you manage to find your voice and smile, feeling some of your nerves fade. It feels good to hear him call you his; just hearing him say the word _mine_ makes your heart race. His easy grin returns, and he looks satisfied, but the heat hasn't died down from his eyes. 

"good. i'll try to come back as early as i can." Despite the fact that he needs to go before Papyrus makes his way to the sentry post to make certain that Sans actually went to work, he lingers by your side. 

"I'll be fine. Just go on before Papyrus comes back looking for you."

"ok, fine. see ya later, sweetheart." He starts to rise, but leans back over your for another kiss, this one more of a peck of his teeth against your lips than anything else. Afterward, his forehead presses to yours, and he looks like he wants to say something else, but thinks better of it. In the blink of an eye, he disappears. He's much more blatant with his teleportation in this timeline, apparently. 

You spend a little longer in bed before you finally manage to drag yourself out. The layout of the house is the same, so you're able to locate the shower... but your hand hesitates on the doorknob. Papyrus's room catches your eye down the hall, and as much as you know it's rude to snoop, you can't help yourself. You're already a sinner, so why not add to the tallies? You're too curious; you want to know how different this version's room is compared to the one you know. You make your way toward the door and find it unlocked. Obviously, Papyrus either trusts Sans or has a strong conviction that his brother is too intimidated to go through his belongings. Either way, you push the door open slowly, feeling your heart beating so hard that it climbs into your throat. The entire house is silent, but if your luck runs out, you're boned ten ways from Sunday. 

Opening the door reveals a room set up much like your Papyrus's room, only the walls are a deep crimson and the curtains are solid black. The only light that's coming into the room is from the hallway, so you flip on the light switch and your brows raise. He doesn't have a race car bed, which is disappointing, nor does he have a table filled with actions figures. Instead, the table has what appear to be crude tools or.. torture devices lying on it. There's still a pirate flag hanging above that, but it's been ripped to shreds and crudely sewn back together. A bookshelf takes up the opposite wall, and he even still has a computer, but you decide not to touch it. You step further into his room, your feet sinking into the lush carpet, and examine his bookshelf. To your surprise, there are various cookbooks, which answers one of your questions about him. There are also various puzzle and trap books, as well as some battered supernatural romance novels you recognize as being popular on the Surface many years ago. There are no children's books, but you can't imagine this Papyrus wanting a bedtime story from his brother. 

Being in the room makes you feel nervous, and you're certain not to touch anything as you turn and head back into the hall. This time, you go and take your shower, though you do take a moment to examine the various bruises on your skin. Some occurred during your fight with Toriel, but most of them were from Sans's rough treatment. However, the hot water helps soothe your sore muscles and wash away the sweat, grim, and residual crimson magic on your thighs. When you get out, you feel so much better--almost normal, even. You re-adorn Sans's oversized sweater, but you can't wear it as a dress; your tights are beyond saving. So, you dig through his chest of drawers until you find a pair of sweatpants that fit when you roll the waistband up a few times. You even decide to steal a pair of his socks to wear with your boots, which you tuck your pants into. The look isn't exactly the most fashionable, but it's the best you can come up with since the slacker seems to favor just wearing shorts. 

Looking fashionable wouldn't matter if you were just staying in his house... but you've already made up your mind to disobey and explore. You don't know how much of this timeline is different from your own, but from the crazed way your friends behave, you assume that things are more murderous here. But would monsters really attack you on sight? Would they even know what a human looks like? Your previous runs through the Underground have shown that most monsters didn't remember what humans were supposed to look like; pretty much only the Boss Monsters and the Royal Guard members had been aware. If that much was the same, then at least you could go to Grillby's and get a proper burg and fries. You had a good bit of gold you had collected while in the Ruins, after all. And it wasn't like you could just live in Sans's room forever; you needed to find out more details about this timeline, and that meant interacting with other monsters.

With your hair still damp, you descend the stairs and feel the impulse to explore the differences downstairs. No pet rock, no sticky note war on a sock, but there was still a quantum physics book inside a joke book inside a quantum physics book.. and there was some more gold in the couch cushions, like always. You consider exploring the kitchen and checking out the leftovers, but the mere thought of food is enough to make your stomach growl, so you decide to hurry. Stepping into the snow outside the house makes you feel nostalgic. There's still multi-hued lights strung on the skelebros' house, casting little circles of color on the snow around your feet. As a child, you had felt like the sight was magical, and you always made a big show of not stepping on any of the lights. That habit sticks with you, and you find yourself stepping awkwardly around the lights while smiling fondly at the memory. Of all the places in the Underground, Snowdin has always been your favorite. 

You pass a couple of monsters that look familiar, but like the skeletons, seem to favor red and black, and both boast scars and sharp teeth. They don't even glance your way, and you let out a breath you hadn't even realized you were holding. You're trying not to stare at anyone, but also be acutely aware of your surroundings in case someone tries to blindside you with a sudden attack like Sans initially did. You decide to take the tunnel to the beginning of town, to see how much it had changed and perhaps check out the general store and get a Cinnabun. However, as soon as you spot the welcome sign, you feel your blood run cold. 

"WELCOME TO ~~SNOWDIN~~ HELL" is written on the sign, Snowdin having been marked out by what you hope is red paint. More barbed wire is wrapped around the posts, giving it a garish appearance that fills you with dread. This is not the happy place that once filled you with holiday nostalgia. This is a beaten-down town where all the windows on the buildings have metal bars across them and everything appears run-down. You feel uneasy and a little scared to walk the length of the town to Grillby's alone, so you backtrack through the tunnel again. A few buildings down, you reach Grillby's, and the sight of the familiar neon sign brings a giant grin to your face; at least it seems the same. You don't even notice it's the only building in the immediate area that doesn't boast some kind of graffiti on the side. 

As you walk inside, the warmth and familiar scent of a bonfire combined with greasy food and alcohol fills you with **DETERMINATION.**

###### 

Despite the fact that Sans is sitting at his sentry post, lazily leaned forward with his chin resting in his upturned palm, he's not scowling for once. There's a stupid grin plastered on his face that has everything to do with you and last night. Sure, it sucked balls that you started crying afterward. Sans had to admit, that part wasn't what he had been expecting. But then again, he hadn't been expecting that night to go the way it had. The moment he had seen you walk out of the Ruins, he had known you were a human and killed you because it was his job. It's kill or be killed, and all monsters knows a human has the power to dust every monster down here. But once you triggered a loop, and he realized you were the anomaly from his lunch... well...

The scientific side of him that he had buried deep down since moving to Snowdin flared back up. He wanted to know details; he wanted to know how you knew him and why he could feel that he knew you in his very SOUL. He wanted to have the same memories, he wanted to be able to remember you from another life. But, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't.

But from how your stories went, it seemed clear enough to him what the two of you were in that alternate timeline.

You belonged to _him_.

From the looks you gave him, to the way you positioned your body to press closer to his on the couch, it was obvious you were screaming for his touch. Who was he to say no to that? He'd never had an actual relationship, but he'd made his rounds through the females of the Underground, and yet.. none of that compared to what he had felt last night. Was it because you were human? Did he get off fucking something exotic, something that was supposed to be his mortal enemy?

Or did his SOUL remember you?

Hell if he knew. All he knew was that you turned him on, and he had put two and two together when he realized you were the girlfriend of an alternate version of him. You were already a skeleton fucker, so there was no way you'd reject him. Part of him even felt a little bit jealous, which was a disgusting feeling, being jealous of yourself. But it sounded like that Sans was different from him. Did you picture the other Sans? Did it feel the same? Sans had assumed that you and his counterpart had been to the _bone zone_ on numerous occasions from the heat in your gaze and the way your body responded to his every touch, like greeting an old friend after being apart. But you were unsure and bashful and _so tight_. 

By the time he finished, he had wanted to ask you if that was actually your first time (the chains around your wrists made him feel guilty if it was, and he didn't like feeling guilty over something so _good_ ), but he didn't. Instead, he just got you some clothes and put you to bed, but he couldn't stop thinking about the other timeline. If this other Sans hadn't boned you good, then it obviously wasn't the same Sans as him because he could barely restrain himself from the moment he kissed you. And how did you end up in this alternate timeline in the first place? Whatever had happened, it was enough to make you cry, long and hard, and make him regret even asking. He could tell from your reaction when he mentioned having more questions that you didn't want to talk about it.. but he needed to know. 

He had to make sure it wouldn't happen again.

He had to make sure you stayed with _him._

If Sans was honest with himself (which he rarely is), he uses sex to drag himself out of his apathetic existence, but beyond that, he doesn't have any meaningful relationships--not even friendships. Sure, he knows most monsters, but there's a certain level of disdain and insecurity that comes with knowing them. Even Grillby, one of this closer acquaintances, is someone he can't exactly call up to just shoot the shit. And even though he used to work with Alphys, he still wants to throttle that useless bitch whenever their paths cross. 

But with you, talking actually comes easy.. and so does physical contact. No one has ever slept on his chest before (or apologized for something when they thought he was asleep but he actually wasn't) or given him the smile and kindness that you had shown, despite the fact that he impaled you with a bone on first sight. He finds himself wanting to protect you, wanting to know more about the bond you apparently shared in another life, and wanting you to remain with him. You make him feel, and whether it's just interest because you are some sort of time-traveler, a human, or someone that actually gives a damn about him, he isn't sure. But to hell with it; Sans doesn't care what the exact reason is. He just cares that he's actually grinning while at his stupid shitty sentry job. He can take Papyrus's constant nagging about the puzzles no one is going to ever actually use because he has someone waiting for him at home. 

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear; Papyrus marches into view, appearing mildly surprised to see Sans actually at his post. He quickly amends his expression with confidence over his powers of intimidation, his shoulders back and his head held high as he smirks. 

"SANS! I SEE YOU FINALLY DECIDED TO DRAG YOUR BONY ASS TO WORK. DID YOU ACTUALLY CALIBRATE YOUR PUZZLES, TOO?"

Sans is still grinning, his mood untouched as he shrugs. "nope. didn't get around to it yet, boss."

Papyrus is slack-jawed at first; he's not used to his brother being so blatant about his defiance. "W-WELL, WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR, YOU LAZY SACK OF BONES?! FUCKING GET TO IT ALREADY!" When Sans does not move, Papyrus slams his gloved palms flat against the sentry booth in front of him, shaking loose some snow from the roof of it. "NOW!"

The smaller skeleton's jovial grin fades a little, and he slides his chair back. "don't ya got nothing better to fuckin' do?" he mumbles, making Papyrus twitch. 

"WHAT WAS THAT?!"

"i said i'm on it, boss." 

"THAT'S WHAT I THOUGHT!"

As Sans moves away from his post, stepping around his brother with a huff... he abruptly finds himself seated again in his chair at the sentry station, Papyrus nowhere to be found. Confusion slowly fades to panic, and he jolts to his feet, his jaw clenching. Sure enough, Papyrus comes stomping down the path again.

"SANS! I SEE--"

Before Papyrus can finish his statement for the second time, however, Sans has teleported away, leaving a befuddled Papyrus to stare at the space he had occupied moments before.

Time-looping could only mean one thing.

You hadn't listened.

###### 

The inside of Grillby's is pretty much the same as your memories, although you do immediately spot a couple of things that are different. For one, the juke box that usually was perpetually out-of-order in your timeline is actually smashed in this one. The glass is broken out and the juke box itself is warped, like the metal was crushed inward... and possibly melted. 

And for another, the proprietor of the bar is _purple_. 

The usually-friendly though quiet flamesman is standing in his usual position behind the bar, absently wiping a glass. Nothing else seems to have changed about him except for his brilliant flames casting everything around him in a purple glow. You find the fire pretty and can't help but stare, but since everyone seems to have a red scheme around here, you find his change a little strange. Was it because his fire was hotter now? Were purple flames even a thing? Was his magic just different, like Sans's magic being red instead of blue now? He catches you openly staring and a jagged white smile appears in his flaming head, startling you enough that you visibly flinch. Now that you're caught, you figure you might as well approach the bar and order some food; the interior of the bar already smells delicious. 

You try to mirror his smile, and he sets the glass down to lean forward with his elbow on the bar. "Can I get a burg and fries please?" you ask, trying to keep the waver from your voice. He seems surprised and flinches a little when you say please, but slowly, he leans back in and holds out his hand. You stare at the dancing flames, entranced but unsure. 

"...gold..." He manages, and his voice sounds like it always has--crackling and distorted, like someone trying to murmur over the sound of a roaring wildfire. 

"O-oh, of course!" You fumble with the pocket of your borrowed sweatpants and place 30G in his hand. He doesn't move it, so you tentatively slide another 10G on top of the stack. He still doesn't move his hand, and your smile fades away. His only grows. You stack another 10G on top, beginning to feel nervous. You only have 20G left. However, Grillby seems appeased and pockets your money before retreating to the kitchen. You feel a little cheated and remember Sans mentioning something about Grillby and gold earlier. This version must be greedy. Or maybe he just charged whatever he wanted.

You try to avoid staring at anyone else; you'd rather get some food in you before you start trying to make any conversation. There is no telling how the monsters will react to speaking to you, but unfortunately, your plan to remain inconspicuous is thwarted pretty much instantly. One of the guard dogs starts growling and abruptly stands up, his paws reaching for his weapons. "Something doesn't smell right!" He shouts, and you stiffen automatically, glancing over your shoulder. It looks like Doggo, and now he's looking in your direction. "I thought I saw something!" You hold your breath and try not to move. 

"I smell something weird, too!" You try to cut your eyes without moving your head. That may have been Dogamy.

"So do I! That smell..." And that's Dogaressa.

"...Smells like Sans," Dogamy finishes, and you release your breath. Thank everything that you chose to wear his clothes. Unfortunately, your shoulders slump when you relax, and Doggo spots you instantly. He's in front of you in a moment, sniffing the front of your sweater with vigor. Face flushing, you push his snout out of the way so it's no longer buried between your breasts. 

"Hey!" you protest, and he squints at you. 

"You're not Sans. But you smell like him. And you smell like not-him at the same time. It confuses me." He sniffs harder, his doggy nostrils flaring while you try to keep his snout pushed back. He starts growling, revealing rows of sharp teeth tinged with red, and your back becomes flush with the bar. 

"Sans is a friend of mine," you decide to try, which draws the attention of every bar patron around you. Everyone liked Sans in your timeline, so maybe it's the same.. but no, from the expressions on the other monsters' faces, they either appear terrified of him or pissed off at the mention of him. 

Doggo grins, and it's unnerving. At least he's stopped trying to publically motorboat you. "A friend?"

You nod, filled with dread. As he continues to stare, you try to maneuver around him, but it's impossible. "Y..yeah, he's my friend."

"Ya'know, I owe that sorry sack of shit." You don't like the way he says that, or the way his grip shifts on the hilt of his short sword. "I mean, an eye for an eye, right?" You notice for the first time that Doggo's left eye is clouded over. His vision has always been horrible, so it was difficult to notice right away. 

"D..Did Sans..?"

But you don't get to finish that question before there's a searing pain in your face... and then nothing.

 

You jolt back into reality, hissing and holding your right eye. You rub the phantom pain away with the heel of your hand and fearfully look around the interior of the bar. You're back to standing just inside the establishment, Grillby is cleaning a glass behind the bar, and the dogs don't seem to have noticed you yet. Your eye is watering, but intact. You wipe away the tear with your sleeve, your hand shaking. 

You were impaled through the eye with a sword. Well, that was a new death. 

The leftovers in the skelebros' refrigerator are looking better and better, so you quickly turn on your heel and start back toward the door. However, you're stopped short. Dogamy has caught the sleeve of your sweater and is sniffing it. 

"That smell.." He mutters, drawing the attention of Doggo, Greater Dog, and Dogaressa. Doggo is sniffing the air and rising from his seat. You try to pull your sleeve away, but the fabric just stretches off your shoulder. 

"Let go of me!" Panic is rising, your fight or flight instincts kicking in. You're not about to fight, so you have to get out of here. You made a mistake by coming to Grillby's; you made a mistake thinking that any of this timeline could be like your own. Here, you'll be murdered without a second thought. It wasn't even because you're a human; it was just because you're wearing Sans's shirt. You never anticipated that. 

Doggo steps forward, a blade in each hand. "But you smell like--"

"like me?" 

The sweater is ripped from Dogamy's paw, and you're pulled backwards against a firm chest. An arm is across you, a skeletal hand gripping the top of your shoulder protectively. Abruptly, the dogs back away and Doggo drops his weapons. Every set of eyes in Grillby's is staring at the scene unfolding.

"Sans.." His name comes out in a whisper, and you feel your eyes swimming with tears. He came for you. He must have realized you looped. 

"which one?" The question comes out in a growl near your ear. His entire body is stiff, like everything within him is wound tight and could burst at any moment. You realize he's beyond pissed off, and you are suddenly quite aware that you disobeyed his request after stating that you'd stay inside the house. Lying is just another sin to add to the list.

"W..What do you mean?" you manage, his barely-controlled anger making you nervous despite the fact that he's your savior in this situation.

His grip tightens painfully on your shoulder. "you know what i mean. which. one. killed. you." Each word is ground out in a low murmur with clenched teeth, not meant for the other monsters' ears. However, since you're dealing with canine monsters, they hear anyway.

"W-we didn't touch them!" Dogaressa insists, likely trying to spare her husband's life; Sans is staring daggers at Dogamy since he was the one holding onto your sleeve. "The.. the smell was just curious, that's all."

"Yeah, we didn't do anything," Dogamy adds, backing away to be in front of his wife. 

"It's fine, Sans. Let's just go," you plead, turning in his grip to look up at him. He refuses to meet you gaze, instead staring hard at the group of dogs. You can feel his magic brimming just beneath the surface, giving his body a slight electric tingle. 

"nothin's fine, sweetheart. was it him?" He's looking at Dogamy, who whimpers at the accusation, while Dogaressa involuntarily growls in response. Sans starts to raise his free arm, and you grab it between both hands.

"No! It wasn't," you insist, shaking his arm, trying to get him to look at you. "Please. I'm sorry I left the house. I.. I won't again. Let's just go home." Your voice is shaking, but you don't want to see any of the guard dogs dusted. 

"not until you tell me which one it was." 

"No, I.. I can't. I can't let them die." His grip on your shoulder is bruising your skin, and he pulls you tighter to his chest, shaking his other arm out of your hold with ease. A bone conjures just beyond his fingertips, and you ball his sweater up in your fists, shaking his entire frame to try to get the bone to vanish. "Please, Sans. Please. You're not a killer."

His scowl lifts at the edges slightly, but his grin is more of a grimace. "heh. and here i thought you knew me," he mumbles darkly, and you think of the feeling of the sharp bone protruding from your abdomen when you left the Ruins. "welp, guess not. you see, me and the other me? we're different. i dunno what happened, but he let something bad happen to ya. and well.. you're _mine_ now, and i protect what's mine. got it?"

You feel yourself shiver, but you're not sure if it's because you're scared Sans is about to go on a Genocide run of his own or because you get a little thrill whenever he calls you his. 

"But I'm fine. See? I'm not hurt," you try, your voice sounding watery even to your own ears. He scoffs, his scowl returning in an instant. 

"but ya were. forget it. if you won't tell me, i'll just dust 'em all." You have time to shout and try to rattle his bones, to break his concentration on his magic, but he releases a barrage of bones toward the dog table anyway. The dogs collectively let out a loud yipe that makes you scream... but before the bones reach their respective marks, they burst into flames and disintegrate into ash. Grillby crackles, his flames burning much brighter for a moment, which causes him to catch Sans's ire. The skeleton glares at the flamesman, but his hand has dropped and some of the magic seems to have faded away. 

".....not...here..." Grillby crackles the words out, and Sans stares him down for a moment. However, he ultimately grins again and shrugs with a raised, upturned palm. 

"you're lucky this's the only decent joint to eat at around here, grillbz." You sigh, casting Grillby a grateful smile. This time, he doesn't return the gesture. Sans turns back to the dog table, and his grin seems so much more menacing. >"but let that be the only warnin' you'll ever get. you hear me? nobody touches her." There are mumbles of assent, and then Sans lets his hand slide down to your arm and turns around. "let's go."

He practically drags you outside the bar, steaming with anger. You stumble through the snow. "I'm sorry, Sans."

"yeah, yeah." Your apology gets blown off; he's dragging you toward the house without looking at you. "so what happened? the food in the fridge not good enough for ya?" The inquiry is practically spat.

You feel guilty, but then again, it seems like you always feel guilty. "No, I.. I didn't look in the fridge," you admit, causing him to stop so suddenly that you collide into his back. He whirls around, glaring down at you. 

"what then? you just lied to my face? it was too hard to just wait 'til we had a chance to go together, where i could protect ya?" 

You can feel yourself beginning to tremble. "I just wanted to feel a sense of normalcy, Sans! I wanted to go to Grillby's and eat, and maybe see some familiar faces!"

"yeah, real familiar, huh? were they familiar when they fuckin' killed ya? in case you haven't realized it yet, sweetheart, no one here knows ya." 

You feel your eyes burning, but you're tired of crying. "Oh, I've realized it," you snap, directing the blow to him. You know that he's right, that it would have been better to just wait for him. But, at the same time, you don't feel like you did anything wrong by going to get a burger and fries. It's not your fault this timeline is so screwed up.

Well.. technically, it probably _is_ your fault, but still.

His eyesockets narrow. In his anger, his fingers are digging into your already-bruised wrist, but you bite your lip to stop yourself from wincing. "that so? i thought i got to know ya real well last night. guess i need to remind you. can't promise it'll be a _gentle_ reminder, though." There is so much heat and anger in his gaze that you believe him when he says he won't be gentle. You feel your face heat up at the promise, and it's enough to distract you from your anger. This timeline may be messed up, with monsters killing on a mere whim, but at least in this one, Sans wants you. It's all you ever wanted; it's the entire reason you **RESET** initially. You had thought about spending more time in the Underground then, about lingering in Snowdin and growing up so that Sans might fall in love with you instead of just seeing you as a mere child. 

But, this time... you aren't a kid. And this version of Sans is no stranger to the bone zone. In fact, he's already laid claim to you, calling you his in front of an entire bar of people and nearly slaughtering a group of dogs because a loop occurred. You could stay here; there was nothing stopping you. You could live your life in the Underground with his Sans and get everything you want. 

"I think I could use a reminder," you reply, stepping closer to Sans, your fingers reaching up to hook beneath his collar. His cheekbones immediately flushed with magic when you gave it a tug toward you. You leaned in with your mouth just barely out of reach. "... And maybe some food because I really am hungry." He chuckles, his grip relaxing on your wrist. However, he begins guiding your hand down, toward the crotch on his shorts. 

"i've got something you can eat." 

But before you can respond, a voice breaks the moment entirely. "SANS!"

Both of you jerk as if you were hit with an electric cattle prod, blushing furiously. Sans's expression has darkened, his grin now a solemn scowl. 

"SANS! IS THAT.. IS THAT WHAT I THINK IT IS?!"

"son'ova bitch." 

Sans steps in front of you, trying to block you from view, but it's too late. Papyrus has seen you. When you turn around, the much taller skeleton is staring directly at you in complete shock. 

"YOU... YOU ACTUALLY CAPTURED A HUMAN?!" Papyrus asks, his gaze shifting from his brother to you. You're loosely holding onto the back of Sans's jacket. You had been hoping you could avoid Papyrus, but maybe he's not as different in his timeline. He still likes cooking, puzzles, and human-hunting, you've noticed. He probably still has the shed made up as some kind of makeshift human cell. You should have checked when you were snooping. 

"look, boss--" 

"Yeah, he captured me," you interject, drawing looks from both brothers. Sans's surprise becomes panic, while Papyrus nods in appreciation. Looks like you earned Sans some points with his brother. That was good; maybe you could help them rebuild their relationship. Maybe things could be fixed.

"YOU ACTUALLY DID SOMETHING USEFUL, BROTHER? MAYBE I WAS WRONG ABOUT YOU BEING A USELESS SACK OF SHIT!" Smirking, Papyrus steps closer, which puts Sans on-edge. He tries to force you backward. "WELL, LET'S GET ON WITH IT AND HARVEST THEIR SOUL!"

Wait... What about the cell?

You open your mouth to actually voice that question, but all that comes out is a strangled gasp. Sans glances over his shoulder and his jaw drops in complete horror.

"oh, no. no no nonononono." 

A massive bone is protruding from the ground, having run you all the way through. It enters through the back of one thigh and emerges from your shoulder, just barely missing impaling your chin, too. Sans is shouting something and Papyrus is laughing. This death seems like it should be painful, but your body goes into shock pretty much instantly, having been lifted off the ground from the impact. You do, however, feel your body begin to slide down the shaft of the bone before everything goes black. 

 

When the world re-LOADs, you're screaming.

You're also standing in the middle of Grillby's again, your knees bent and your hand clutching your shoulder. Everyone in there is staring at you, and you're distantly aware that a glass shatters--probably the one Grillby was cleaning. You sound like a banshee having a break-down, and suddenly, you're pulled forward against someone's chest and then you feel weightless and disoriented. You stop screaming when you feel everything shift, and you're placed onto a bed by shaking arms. 

Sans stares down at you, looking more rattled than you've ever seen him appear. He keeps looking to the spot on your shoulder where the bone had been protruding, and there's a cold sweat on his skull.

Finally, he touches your cheek. "sweetheart..are you okay?"

You nod, leaning your face against his palm. "Yeah, I'm fine.. Just caught me by surprise."

"i.. i couldn't do anything. i didn't protect you," Sans mutters after a short pause. Your chest clenches and you reach up to cover his hand with your own.

"No, no, it's okay. I mean, it's not like I really died." You try to smile, but it comes out lop-sided and off. 

"if it'd been anyone but you, you'd be dead," he counters without an ounce of humor. "it's not safe for ya to stay here, under the same roof as him. i need to figure out somewhere to go. or kill him." The last part is muttered beneath his breath, and you stiffen, your hand dropping from his hand. 

"What was that?"

"you're hungry, right? i'll warm you up some leftovers," Sans skirts the question entirely, while moving toward the door. He pauses for a moment and glances over his shoulder at you, his gaze searching yours. Again, you try to smile, but it doesn't quite look right.

"Okay. Thanks." 

He nods and walks out, while you lie back on the bed with your hand over your eyes. 

Sans will never get over what Papyrus did to you. 

There is no way to fix their relationship now.

Papyrus will kill you on sight. So will Doggo if you go out smelling like Sans. His warning was never issued in this part of the timeline. Even with Sans, survival is not guaranteed; Papyrus was able to skip over your skeleton-shield with his magic. 

And if Sans doesn't kill Papyrus, he's likely going to move out of Snowdin with you. Where would you go? Waterfall, to be hunted by Undyne? Hotland, to swelter around lava all day? The Capitol, where you'd probably be killed the quickest? 

Maybe the Ruins, where he could come across Toriel.

You're a piece of shit, you know that? Stop thinking about that. 

Your hand drops, and you stare up at the ceiling. You can hear Sans downstairs, and it's reassuring. If you try hard enough, you can pretend you're in your own timeline, where you can walk around outside without getting impaled on-sight. You want to stay here because you have Sans... but is having him enough? Could you live the rest of your life in hiding or isolation, away from everyone but him? 

You close your eyes and tentatively call forth your options. The **RESET** button is still glitched, looking as bad as it did when you checked it in front of the Ruins. It could possibly look even worse now. The **LOAD** button is even starting to look a little weird; the _L_ keeps flipping backward and it's missing a corner. Panic makes your heart race. What could be causing it to spread? And what would happen if you were to **RESET** now? Would you go into another timeline? Or would you be at the start of this one? Your last **RESET** during your run with Chara was the one that caused everything to change... so it could mean that it was just a mistake, a hiccup in the process. Likely, if you pressed the button, you might be able to return to your own timeline. 

You might could return to a timeline where Sans and Papyrus acted like actual brothers, where monsters didn't try to kill one another, and Snowdin wasn't considered a cold day in Hell. You should be trying everything you can to fix the timeline, to return your friends to their former selves, not selfishly lingering just because you took advantage of this Sans's loneliness and made him think you belonged to him in another reality. 

At the very least, if you **RESET** and ended up back in this timeline, Sans wouldn't want to dust Papyrus, and you might have a better chance of getting his help to fix the timeline. If you asked him now, he likely would try to work against you, to keep you here with him. 

"sweetheart, i warmed up half of a burg and some of boss's lasagna for ya." 

From the direction of his voice, Sans is standing just inside the room. You've never tried lasagna made by Papyrus. Would this version be a decent cook? It intrigues you, and the smell of the food makes your stomach growl. Still, you don't open your eyes, and you lift your hands to cover your face. You can still see your options flickering in your mind's eye. 

"sweetheart?" 

Your chest clenches; he comes over and sits on the edge of the bed beside you. Maybe staying in isolation with Sans for the rest of your life wouldn't be so bad. His phalanges gently try to peel your fingers away from you face, and you finally let him. But when he tries to take his hand back, you lace your fingers between his and squeeze tight. You still haven't opened your eyes--if you do, you'll lose every bit of your resolve--but you can feel the rough scratch of his bone running along the edge of your hand, and the gentle touch makes you want to break. You're about to just sit up, eat your lunch, and forget about everything else when a commotion from downstairs makes you jump. 

"SANS! YOU'RE IN HERE, AREN'T YOU?! I SHOULD'VE KNOWN YOU COULDN'T STAY AT YOUR POST FOR MORE THAN TEN FUCKING MINUTES! USELESS IMBECILE!"

Sans's grip on your hand becomes bruising; his thumb bares down on your skin so hard that you're certain the scratch drew blood. You can feel the way he tenses beside you without even opening your eyes. 

"dammit to hell," he mutters under his breath, and you feel the plate of food be placed on your lap. 

"I'M GOING TO DRAG YOUR LAZY ASS BACK MYSELF! RIGHT AFTER I BREAK YOUR DAMNED LEGS JUST LIKE I PROMISED!"

Papyrus's voice is coming up the stairs, and Sans lets go of your hand completely. Your eyes fly open and you reach out toward him, but he pulls away.

"i'm going to kill that bastard," he growls.

"No! Please, Sans," you plead, trying to keep your voice low. "Don't hurt Papyrus."

He doesn't even turn around. "it's the only way ya can be safe here."

"But I thought you said.. you said you cared about him. You wanted to help make him even greater, right?" You're grasping at straws, trying to remember what he said about his brother last night. Your mind's glossing over the conversation in favor of remembering every delightful detail of the time spent in his bedroom instead. However, you make Sans pause, just in front of the door. 

"SANS? IS SOMEONE IN THERE WITH YOU?" Papyrus's voice is at the end of the hall. Then, it turns even darker. "AND... WHY IS THE FUCKING LIGHT ON IN MY ROOM?! YOU KNOW THE CONSEQUENCES FOR SNOOPING, BROTHER!" HIs stomping comes from down the hall, loud and purposeful. You panic. You forgot to turn off the light when you went through his room? 

Seriously?

Sans glances over his shoulder at you, his face reflecting the same sentiment, before he shakes his head and grabs the doorknob. 

"i do care about him. as much as i can, anyway. we're brothers. but... for the first time in so fucking long, i'm actually.. happy. so if it comes down to you or him, welp.. i've made my choice." 

"No!" 

But he opens the door, a Gaster Blaster beginning to materialize behind him, and you can see Papyrus's surprised expression in the doorway. You can't let this happen. You can't. 

So, you call forth the **RESET** button with renewed DETERMINATION and reach out.

"I'm sorry, Sans.."

Your fingertips touch the broken button, and it lights up. Distantly, you hear a Blaster going off, right as the world fades away.

###### 

Golden flowers take up your entire vision, their petals stretching across your eyes. 

You're back at the start, you realize, feeling hot tears slide down your cheeks. Will you have to go through the Ruins yet again? Will you have to face Toriel and implore her to let you leave while the weight of your sins hangs around your neck? Maybe you could tell her everything, even if she didn't believe you. If you're still in that warped timeline, then surely she would burn you alive for spinning such a tale. That could be part of your atonement. 

Or maybe it will be the Toriel that you called Mom, and everything will be like it should be.

Maybe Sans will be your old Sans, clad in his blue hoodie and filled with admiration for his cool brother.

You feel the tears come faster and fight back a sob. If anything did get fixed, you're going to miss the red-eyed Sans and his sharp grin. And his gentle, yet gruff way of speaking to you. 

"sweetheart, stay with me." 

You start at the sound of his voice. It's thick, like he's trying to choke back tears, and definitely belongs to the Sans you just saw fighting Papyrus. For the first time, you realize that you're not lying on the soft bed of buttercups, but rather.. you can feel yourself suspended above the ground, held tight by a pair of arms beneath your knees and shoulders. Fur tickles your cheek when you move your head, and you belatedly realize you're also wearing his thick black jacket. You raise a hand to try to part the flowers and suck in a hissing breath as pain jolts through your face.

The flowers aren't all around you. They're _a part of_ you. They're sprouting directly from your skin, multiple little buds around your eyes, obscuring your vision. Panic bubbles up in your chest and you blindly reach out and touch Sans's face. You can feel his skull, and your finger just barely misses his eyesocket. However, his cheekbones are slick, and you realize he's crying. 

_Why are you crying?_ you want to blurt. But, instead, you hear yourself say, "Smile for me, Sans. Okay? I want you to smile." Your lips are moving on their own. 

"ok. ok, i'm smiling, sweetheart. i'm smiling." He chokes on the words, and your hand slips down. Your fingers feel numb and strange; more flowers have undoubtedly consumed your hands. What could have possibly caused this? You don't have time to ponder it as your hand reaches his mouth. You can tell by the downward curve that he's actually grimacing, but the edges twitch under your touch. He's trying to smile, but he just can't.

You feel your lips curve in a smile of your own, and then you try to form a word: _Liar._

"what's that, sweetheart? i didn't catch it." He's leaning forward, his voice watery. You can feel your arm getting heavy and the numbness makes it too difficult to keep on his face. Your hand slips down, and the golden buds start fading from your view. You're losing the sense that you're being held; it just feels like you're floating now. You see a bead of crimson working its way through the petals, until it hits your nose, warm and slightly tingly with magic. 

_Please don't cry._

"sweetheart?" 

But you're gone. 

The **RESET** button flares back into your vision; there isn't even a LOAD option. It still glitches, pieces of it fading and reappearing with static, the letters occasionally inverting. You don't know what happened after that **RESET** , but from the tone of his voice, you can tell that Sans had been the one you slept with. You had still been in his timeline, then, right? But you.. had **RESET** into your own death? It's confusing. With the way the button appears, you may have screwed things up even worse when you **RESET** , but you don't have a choice now. You decide to act like that last timeline (the one with the flowers; why had there been flowers growing out of your body?) had never happened, and you go with your only option and touch the **RESET**. 

 

When you open your eyes this time, you're in bed and staring at the ceiling. There are no golden flowers around you, and you don't seem to be in the ruins. It's dark, but there's enough light coming from the frost-coated window for the room to seem familiar. 

San's room.

You breathe out a heavy sigh of relief, one hand coming up to rest on your chest. You're actually smiling, feeling gleeful over the fact that something had worked out in your favor. Had you actually LOADed instead? Maybe that kind of glitch occurred, and you'll get to wake up next to Sans. Still grinning, you reach an arm out toward his side, but find that it's empty.. but the space is still warm. Your brows furrow slightly, and you blink in the dark. Carefully, you shift onto your side and roll over, your arm still outstretched. Your fingertips brush something smooth and you jerk.

Two cyan eyes are glowing in the dark and staring directly at you. 

Gasping, you practically throw yourself off the bed, getting wrapped up in the covers in your haste to flee. Luckily, it's a short fall to the floor, and the carpet is thick. You groan, trying to wiggle out of your blanket burrito, but whomever was in the room with you has apparently been just as startled. They run out of the room and start shouting.

"PAPYRUS! PAPY, THERE'S A HUMAN IN MY BED!" 

The voice isn't Sans's; it's too high-pitched and _loud_. But you realize that Papyrus is going to be coming, and fear becomes a real motivator. You manage to get untangled and kick the ball of covers toward the bed, while doing some sort of weird backwards crab walk as you try to both get distance from the door and find your way back to your unsteady feet. Just as you get a hand against the wall and stand halfway up, however, the overhead lights abruptly turn on, and you wince, shielding your face from the sudden change. Now that you can see, you realize the covers have blue cartoon rocket ships on them. 

Definitely not Sans's blankets then.

"huh. well whaddya know? there really _is_ a human in your bedroom. i... wasn't expecting that." 

Your gaze shoots to the door, where two skeletons are watching you. You feel your heart bottom-out into your stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the **RESETs** are starting to go off the rails, sending the Reader into different parts of timelines, instead of the start of the Ruins. Fun times! Now we're moving on to Underswap, but keep telling me what AU's you'd like to see! I'm writing down every one you guys suggest and keeping a running tally of votes. You can feel free to suggest multiple AU's, too! Swapfell is still leading as the next AU.
> 
> Each AU will only be a chapter or two because let's face it, we've got a ton to go through. And like I said, I'll likely be posting a companion fic of fluffy and sexy "what if" moments from the AU's. Tell me a scenario you'd like to see. Hell, tell me who your favorite skele is!


	4. *You're a cheap drunk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're captured by the Magnificent Sans and interrogated by Papyrus.  
> Turns out, Papyrus and Sans have swapped personalities in this timeline.  
> It's too much to deal with right now.
> 
> *You get drunk and go for a swim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said two updates this week, so I'm cutting it a little close. I meant to get this out days ago.

The voice from the doorway startles you, making you freeze momentarily. The tone is right for Sans, but the actual voice sounds more like Papyrus. Blanching, your focus shifts to the doorway, where you see two skeletons staring directly at you. One is clad in an orange hoodie and shorts, while rubbing the back of his skull and appearing tired, like he was just roused from sleep--which was likely true. He towers over the other skeleton, who is peering out from behind him. The smaller one seems to have an affinity for blue; he's wearing a bright blue bandana around his neck, and his eyes are strangely-bright, like a lighter version of Sans's magic-using eye, but glowing in both eyesockets. 

"WHAT? DID YOU THINK THAT THE MAGNIFICENT SANS WOULD REALLY MAKE UP SOMETHING LIKE THAT?" The little skeleton (wait, did he say Magnificent Sans?!) pouts up at the taller one, before suddenly looking smug and planting his hands on his hips. "I'M JUST SO GOOD AT CATCHING HUMANS THAT I DO IT IN MY SLEEP WITHOUT EVEN REALIZING IT! MWEH HEH HEH!"

You stare hard at the little skeleton, feeling your jaw literally drop. He is acting like the Papyrus from your timeline, but his laughter is different... and he had called himself Sans. You must be staring a little too intently, trying to find any trace of your best friend in there, because the hoodie-clad skeleton steps forward, effectively blocking your line of sight. You find yourself left staring at him, his hands casually in his pockets as he slowly strides into the room, looking at ease. An unlit cigarette dangles from his teeth, but he's wearing an easy-going grin, one that may not have been as wide as you are used to, but one that you can still pick out anywhere none-the-less.

"Sans?" you find yourself blurting, your gaze locked with the white lights of the taller skeleton's pupils. He chuckles, and you watch his cigarette wobble in his mouth, trying to figure out how it stays in place. 

"I'M THE MAGNIFICENT SANS! THAT'S MY BROTHER, PAPYRUS!" The smaller skeleton bounds back into view, but Papyrus easily steps in front of him again, blocking him from approaching you. 

You're beyond confused. The **RESET** obviously screwed things up again. First, everyone was violent, then you had flowers growing from your skin, and now... Sans and Papyrus seem completely different. 

And you didn't even start at the Ruins this time.

Papyrus stops right in front of you, his gaze slowly looking you up and down. He rolls the cigarette between his teeth. With a casual grin, he lifts his shoulders in a slight shrug before he even begins to speak. "ok, honey. you wanna tell us how you got into my brother's bed?" Though he's smiling, the way the lights of his eyes become smaller, more focused, lets you know that his question is heavily weighted. The wrong answer will mean nothing good for you. You can feel your eyes starting to get hot, and you have to rapidly blink before the moisture has time to build. You don't have time to cry over the loss of Sans right now--the Sans that called you _his_ \--when you have to come up with an feasible explanation. 

"I... I don't..." You're exhausted and drawing a blank. The Papyrus you know wouldn't be caught dead wearing a hoodie, and certainly wouldn't have this level of chill. Just as Sans would never have the level of energy that the Magnificent Sans holds. He seems like a kid that's been guzzling sugar with a funnel. 

Thankfully, "Sans" steps in. "OHHH, I KNOW! I REALLY DID CATCH A HUMAN IN MY SLEEP! I MUST HAVE BEEN SLEEP PATROLING! IT'S THE ONLY THING THAT MAKES SENSE!" The pupils of his blue eyes literally become a white star in his excitement, and he's leaning forward with his gloved hands balled into fists, staring at you. "ALPHYS IS BOUND TO LET ME JOIN THE ROYAL GUARD NOW!" What was this about _Alphys_ letting him in the Guard? That's Undyne's thing. 

You jump all over his explanation, though, nervously swallowing past a lump in your throat. You find that you can't look Papyrus in the eye. "That's exactly it, uh.. Sans. I woke up captured. You must just be that good." The blue-clad skeleton practically sparkles with the compliment, and you can feel Papyrus's gaze staring a hole through you. You find yourself missing the naively-gullible Papyrus from your past. 

"OF COURSE I AM! FRET NOT, HUMAN! I, THE WONDERFUL AND MAGNIFICENT SANS, WILL TAKE CARE OF YOU DURING YOUR CAPTIVITY! I HAVE A BED PREPARED FOR YOU IN THE SHED, BUT... SINCE YOU SEEM TO ENJOY MY BED, YOU CAN SLEEP WITH ME IF YOU WANT." Was it just you or did his cheeks tinge a little blue?

Papyrus is quick to interject. "yeah, no. that's not happening."

"BUT PAPY!"

"you toss and turn all night. you'll just keep her up, and she looks like she needs sleep."

You aren't fooled by his excuse, but you realize it's just for his brother's benefit. The explanation seems to make sense to Sans, whose pout quickly fades once he looks you over. You don't see any of your best friend and former lover in this version of him, and find yourself biting the inside of your cheek to drag your thoughts back to the present. With Papyrus still staring you down, you can't afford to let your mind wander down that path right now.

"OH ALL RIGHT. THE SHED IT IS."

"... Or the couch?" you can't help but hopefully interject, drawing stares from both brothers. Sans's pout returns a little at his shed idea being shot down by his captive, but luckily, Papyrus comes to the rescue.

"yeah, the couch will work fine. here, let me get you settled in," he claims, tilting his skull toward the hallway with a careful smile. You can feel it in your bones that this doesn't bode well, that it's all just a show for Sans's sake. Still, you nod and make your way toward him, while Sans bounces on the edge of his bed.

"REST WELL, CAPTIVE HUMAN! I'LL MAKE YOU BREAKFAST TACOS IN THE MORNING, AND WE CAN TALK MORE!" He seems so excited over the fact that he's captured a human that you give him a genuine smile, despite how drained you feel. 

"Okay. That sounds nice," you say, though your tone is a bit muted, the words forced. Papyrus is still staring at you hard, but you look past him as he moves from the doorframe to let you by. Without him even escorting you, you make your way down the hall to the stairs. The Snowdin house is the same no matter the timeline so far. When you reach the living room, you gasp as Papyrus teleports directly in front of you; you end up bumping into the front of his hoodie before you spring back like you were electrocuted. When you step back and finally meet his gaze, you realize just how much anger is simmering there.

His gaze flickers to Sans's room, making sure that the door has been shut and the light is actually off. Then, he looks back down to you and plucks his cigarette out from between his teeth, gesturing with it toward the kitchen. "let's have a talk, honey. come sit."

You don't have much of a choice, so you sigh and make your way into the kitchen and to the table to sit down. Your heart is beating quickly, but as nervous as you are to be talking to him, you're not particularly scared. What's the worst that can happen? He kills you? Then you'd probably just wake up in the "Magnificent" Sans's bed again. As you take a seat, he follows but remains standing, leaning against the counter. He lights up his cigarette and inhales, holding it a moment, before slowly blowing out a stream of smoke. You cross your legs and lean back in the chair, realizing for the first time that you're no longer in the red-eyed Sans's sweater and sweatpants; your original outfit is back in-tact. Surprised, you examine your wrists and find that the bruises from the chains are completely gone. At least the **RESET** had given you back your clothing, despite the fact that it was messed up, and what few injuries you had are gone. 

You're still hungry, though, and being in the kitchen doesn't help. Your stomach growls loud enough for him to hear; you can tell by the way he quirks a brow bone. However, he doesn't comment on it yet. Instead, he blows out another puff of smoke and taps the ash over the sink. 

"ok. so.. let's start with the obvious." His gaze is completely focused on you, and you find yourself unable to look away from its intensity. " **who the hell are you and why were you in my bro's room?** "

You swallow. How are you supposed to answer this in a believable way? You're so emotionally-drained and hungry that you can't even figure out what lie to spin. Instead, you shrug slightly and answer, "I'm a time-traveler that's hopping through timelines without any control over it, and I just happened to accidentally end up in his bed."

Papyrus stares at you in silence for a moment, his cigarette dangling between his teeth. He's been still for so long that you consider waving your hand in front of his face. However, he finally leans forward across the table, his palm planting on the surface so he can lower himself down to look at you levelly. "time-traveler, huh..? that's the best you've got?"

"You're the one that asked," you respond simply, still holding his gaze. 

"i didn't ask for bullshit," he snaps, raising his hand to pluck his cigarette from his mouth and roll it between his phalanges. "but you know.. for a human, you don't seem too freaked out to be in a house with two skeletons." He leans in closer, and you find yourself forced to scoot your chair back. His hand shoots out, gripping the back of the chair, keeping you in place. You jump at the sudden motion. "and you seem to know the layout of our house. so that can only mean that you broke in here and went up to my bro's room." His eyelights went out, his sockets dark.. yet you can feel the magic brimming just beneath the surface, a faint orange glow buried somewhere in that darkness. "tell me the truth, **h u m a n. . .** did you go up there to hurt sans?"

"What? N-no," you sputter, unable to move back from him. He's so close that you can smell his breath as it fans against your face, a combination of smoke and something sugary-sweet. You gather your resolve and speak honestly. "I would never hurt Sans!"

_you really like swinging that thing around, huh, kid?  
You see red dribbling down his chin and dripping off his phalanges as he touches his chest in disbelief._

Your eyes are watering. That wasn't you. That hadn't been _you_. You manage to continue despite the horrific phantom memories playing in the back of your head, "I.. I've been in your house plenty of times. I told you the truth." Papyrus is searching your expression, the lights in his eyes returning. Hot tears spill down your cheeks, and you irritably swipe them away. 

"you really expect me to believe you're a time-traveler that's.. been in my house before?" He moves his hand away from you chair, taking another long drag from his cigarette. You get the sense that you're frustrating him, but the feeling is mutual. You don't blame him; it's an outlandish claim. But you really don't feel like going through this right now. You just want to be back in the other timeline, wrapped up in Sans and letting him allow you to forget all of your sins. 

"I know how it sounds, okay?" You have to focus to keep your tone from snapping; your voice is beginning to sound watery, and it annoys you. "But hey, in my original timeline, you love cooking spaghetti. It never turns out right, but we all eat it anyway to make you happy. You love puzzles and want to join the Royal Guard, but you really have too soft of a heart for it. I mean, you decided to be friends with me instead of capturing me, years ago. And you... you never stopped believing in me." You nearly choke on the words, and you're trembling. You really don't want to relive those memories, to open up the wound of just how much you miss spending time with the Papyrus you know.

The Papyrus in front of you has been looking at you strangely the entire time you were speaking. The cigarette bobs between his teeth. "that's funny. it sounds more like you're describing my bro than me."

It hits you suddenly, like a slap to the face. You suck in a sharp inhale, staring hard at Papyrus. You had thought that you had glimpsed a familiarity in his smile before, but you hadn't been sure if you were just imagining it, just trying to find any trace of Sans that you could. After all, the Magnificent Sans certainly didn't hold any traces of your best friend, other than the general shape of his skull and short stature. But now that Papyrus has said it aloud...

"Sans is a terrible cook?"

"his tacos have glitter in them."

"And he wants to join the Royal Guard, right?"

"he stayed outside Alphys's door all night until she agreed to train him." 

"...Is his outfit from a costume party?"

"yep. he refuses to take it off, even to shower. but hey, at least it gets clean." Papyrus blows out a puff of smoke and leans back against the counter, smiling at the thought. "isn't my bro just the coolest?"

"Y-yeah..." You mutter, feeling fresh tears gathering in your eyes. Your face is twitching, and your throat feels tight. You're trying your damnest not to have a break-down in front of Papyrus because if you start crying now, you probably won't be able to stop. All of this timeline hopping is just too much. 

"but how do you know about all that?" He's staring at you, skeptical. It's likely that he thinks you're just someone that's been stalking them with murderous intent rather than a time traveler. 

"... You're lazy. Well, apathetic is a better word. You probably have a fascination for some kind of condiment that you like to drink. There's also likely a self-sustaining trash tornado in your room. And at one point... you used to be a scientist." 

All of that was a stretch, you grasping at straws and trying to remember what was the same between the red-eyed Sans and the original. But when the cigarette goes lax between his teeth and the lights in his eyes become much bigger, you realize that you might have actually got some of it right. 

Papyrus in this timeline... is Sans. They're swapped.  
And from the sound of things, Undyne and Alphys have been swapped, too. You wonder how many other personalities have been swapped, but you don't feel like digging for information right now.

"you... you..." 

"I'm the Legendary Fart Master. If that's even your code word in this timeline. I don't know anymore. Just.. look, Sa...Papyrus. Could I get something to eat and crash on your couch? I.. can't do this anymore, okay? I can't." You've reached the breaking point. While Papyrus is still staring at you, slack-jawed, you stand up and move to the fridge, opening it up to reveal row after row of containers of tacos. Sure enough, they glimmer in the light, each one graciously-dusted with glitter. You reach for a container, not even caring at this point, but Papyrus grabs your arm from behind.

"okay, honey. we'll stop this for now. but don't eat that. seriously. i've got a burg and a spider donut hidden here," he claims while moving some containers aside to fish out a folded-over bag. "i'll warm it up for you, ok?"

"Sure. Thank you... Papyrus." You have to catch yourself every time to stop from calling him Sans. He's not Sans, but he basically is. This timeline is weird, but at least no one's tried to kill you yet. While he's heating up your food, you move back into the living room and sit on the familiar, comfortable couch, sinking into the worn cushions. Your head touches the armrest, and you focus on not thinking about anything. It isn't long before Papyrus comes back with your food, and you gratefully take it from him, the delicious smell making your stomach growl all over again. The burg is half-eaten, but you don't even care at this point. You chow down, while Papyrus awkwardly sits beside you on the couch. After a moment of silence, he turns on the TV, but puts the volume on low so as not to wake up Sans.

You're expecting MTT, but instead of Mettaton... you see another strange robot. This one appears to be wearing a baseball cap, however, and appears all around more masculine than the robot you're familiar with. "That's.. who is that?" you decide to inquire around a mouthful of Spider Donut. 

"napstaton, of course. he's the biggest star of the underground. well, the only star, really." Papyrus shrugs, glancing over at you.

"Napsta... You mean that's Napstablook?"

"no. are you talking about happstablook?" 

"N..Nevermind," you say, sighing. You don't like this. You don't like everyone being switched around. You've finished your food and move to stand up to take the plate to the kitchen, but Papyrus stops you by simply taking the empty plate from your hand. In a blink, he's gone, and you hear something in the kitchen. Then, you hear something upstairs. And suddenly, he's standing in front of you with a blanket and pillow. 

"here. get some rest. my bro's going to probably wake you up early. i haven't seen him this excited in forever." Papyrus shrugs kind of awkwardly. You suppose it's because he's shifting from assuming that you're some kind of human assassin to possibly accepting the possibility that you really are just from another timeline. You force a smile and take the blanket and pillow. 

"Thanks, Papyrus... G'night." What else is there left to say? He hesitates a moment, before he finally sticks his hands in his hoodie pocket and smiles. 

"night, honey." 

And then he teleports away, leaving nothing but the electric tingle of magic in his wake. You pull off your boots and lift your legs onto the couch, lying out and preparing to sleep. The glow of the TV illuminates the room, and if you don't look at the fact that Napstaton is on the screen, you can pretend nothing has changed. 

But you miss Sans. You miss both the original one that called you kiddo and the one that called your sweetheart. If either of them were here, you would have clutched their jackets and held on tight. Instead, you're left to clutch your blanket. It smells vaguely of smoke and this Papyrus. You try to draw comfort in that, even if it's not the same. 

You manage to hold back your tears and sleep quickly claims you.

###### 

The next morning, you wake up to the smell of something burning and forget where you are for a second. "Papyrus.. You're burning breakfast!" you sleepily call out, rolling over and pulling the blanket further over your head. 

"no, i'm not." 

You jerk; the low voice came from directly above you. When you pull the blanket back, Papyrus is standing there, his hip propped on the armrest of the couch, glancing down at you. It only takes a second for the orange hoodie and the stem of a sucker in his mouth (so he didn't always smoke, you notice) to register before you remember where--and when--you are. You sit upright, bunching the blanket up in the motion, and rub your hand across your face. "Sans, I mean.." you mutter, correcting yourself.

"I MOST CERTAINLY AM NOT, HUMAN! YOU NEED HIGH HEAT TO COOK THE MEAT PROPERLY! EVERYONE KNOWS THAT!" Sans shouts from the kitchen. "HOWEVER, THE NEW FRIENDSHIP TACOS ARE ALMOST DONE! ONE TASTE OF THESE, AND YOU'LL NEVER WANT TO LEAVE!" You think about having to eat the glitter, but can't bring yourself to care. Thankful that you at least got one decent meal last night, you get off the couch and fold up the blanket. 

"All right, I'm ready to try your infamous tacos!" you call back to Sans, treating him much like you would the Papyrus of your timeline. Papyrus lazily follows after you, and you realize he's still keeping a close eye on you around his brother. You try to ignore him and just have a seat at the table, while Sans serves you a giant plate of tacos. Aside from the fact that it looks like he dumped an entire container of glitter all over them, they don't look too bad. 

"HERE YOU ARE, HUMAN! I PREPARED THEM ESPECIALLY FOR YOU! THINK OF IT AS YOUR PRIZE FOR GETTING CAPTURED BY SOMEONE AS MAGNIFICENT AS ME!" He looks so excited, practically bouncing in place, literal stars still in his eyes. Watching him makes you feel better about being in this timeline, despite the longing still pitted in your chest. 

"Thank you, Sans. I'm going to savor my prize," you tell him as you pick up one of the tacos. After tapping the edge of it against your plate to dispel a giant glob of glitter, you take a bite. Your face involuntarily scrunches up. The meat is crispy, with globs of charred fat. The cheese is gooey. Half of the shell is crunchy, while other bits are soggy, and the glitter is thick on your tongue, giving it a gritty texture. You chew for much longer than necessary and finally manage to choke down the bite. Papyrus is hiding a grin behind his hand, while you rub your tongue against the roof of your mouth, trying to rid yourself of some of the glitter. "It... It's like nothing I've ever had," you manage.

"REALLY? I KNEW YOU WOULD LOVE IT! DON'T WORRY! AS LONG AS I HAVE YOU CAPTURED, YOU CAN EAT MY COOKING FOR EVERY MEAL!" Sans puts a fist to his chest confidently, before turning back to fix Papyrus a plate. You try to manage another bite, but it's difficult. Your eyes are watering from the taste. At least Papyrus in your timeline wouldn't use craft supplies. 

Before Sans turns back around, this timeline's Papyrus shows you Mercy. He reaches over and touches the taco in your hand. A faint orange outline forms around it, and then it disappears. You look at him with such gratitude that he chuckles and pats your head like a child. You don't even mind. 

The rest of the meal goes similarly. You end up swallowing three bites whenever Sans is watching, but as soon as he's distracted, Papyrus makes the taco disappear. He does the same to his own plate. Sans is super excited that you love his cooking, and when all the plates are devoid of his culinary masterpiece, he bounds over to you and gives you a hug. Papyrus stiffens behind you, but you simply hug the little skeleton back, touching your forehead to the top of his skull.

"I CAN'T WAIT TO SHOW YOU MY PUZZLES! AND FOR YOU TO MEET ALPHYS! I JUST KNOW YOU'LL LOVE HER! SHE'S A LOT OF FUN, AND SHE'S AN AMAZING FIGHTER!" 

"I'm sure we'll get along fine," you say, even though you have a feeling you know exactly how it'll go. You rub Sans's back a little, and he reluctantly pulls away, his expression shifting when he looks up at you.

"YOU'RE SMILING, HUMAN. I KNOW YOU'RE SMILING... BUT SOMETHING ABOUT YOU SEEMS... SAD. SO IF THERE'S ANYHING I CAN DO TO CHEER YOU UP, JUST TELL ME, OKAY? I MEAN, YOU LOVE TACOS, SO YOU CAN'T BE A BAD PERSON. YOU.. YOU DON'T FEEL LIKE A BAD PERSON." He beams up at you, and the way he says it reminds you of...

_I BELIEVE IN YOU_

.... You lean forward and hug him again, crushing Sans against your chest. He's initially surprised, but he quickly returns the hug. "You don't have to do anything but just be you, okay?" you mumble against his skull. When you pull back, his face is bright blue, and he's twiddling with his bandana. 

"OF COURSE! THE MAGNIFICENT SANS CAN BE NO OTHER! MWEH HEH HEH!" He laughs to regain his composure and grins wide at you, his hands planted on his hips. 

"But it would be nice to take a walk through town," you add, deciding that you need to get some actual breakfast and check out the other differences in the timeline. Well, honestly, you don't even care about the latter. You have something else in mind.

"i'll take you, honey." 

You turn back to glance at Papyrus. You'd really prefer to go on your own, but you have a feeling he's still not going to let you out of his sight.

Sans puffs out his cheeks. "BUT PAPY! THE HUMAN IS MY CAPTIVE!"

"yes, she is. but don't you need to set up your puzzles to show her?" 

Oh, Papyrus is good. As much as you didn't want Papyrus tagging along, you definitely didn't want Sans. It would be impossible to get any time to yourself with the little blueberry excitedly shouting about everything you were doing. 

"YOU'RE RIGHT! OKAY, I'LL SET THINGS UP WHILE YOU OCCUPY THE HUMAN! I'LL CALL YOU WHEN I'M FINISHED!"

"sounds good, bro." 

Sans dashes off, still filled with energy, while you feel a little strange being left alone again with Papyrus. He stands from his seat, still working the sucker between his teeth. "well? did you really want to walk around town or were you just saying that?"

"No.. I meant it," you inform him, standing from your seat, too. After you go back into the living room and retrieve your boots, you walk outside the house, Papyrus meandering after you. The chill sends a shiver down your spine, but this version of Snowdin appears to be more like the one you're used to. There isn't any graffiti or bars on the windows of the buildings around you, and the monsters milling about are dressed in colorful garb and wear friendly expressions for the most part. You release a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. 

"So.. you guys don't just kill each other over every little thing here, right?" you can't help but ask.

Papyrus stares at you, a bony brow arched. "what kind of weird timeline are you from? no, we don't do that here."

"Had to ask. You can never be too sure," you simply say, skirting the query and shrugging off the weird look he gives you. You make a beeline for Grillby's, but discover it doesn't look the same. "Muffet's?" you read the sign aloud, turning toward Papyrus. 

"what? it's the best place to get a donut and a drink," he claims, already heading inside. You follow after him, and seeing Muffet behind the bar instead of Grillby is unsettling.. even if she did look really sharp in that purple suit. You follow him up to the bar, where he gets his usual--a bottle of honey, apparently, and a Spider Donut. As expected, he drinks the honey straight from the bottle, and you realize what the sweet scent on his breath was last night. This was his ketchup or mustard. 

Muffet turns to you, and you pat your pockets for gold. It was all gone with your Reset, and you forgot to go through the cushions of the skelebros' couch to look for any spare coins that usually fell inside. Slowly, you turn to Papyrus and try to give him your brightest smile. "Any chance I could get on your tab?" 

"you're broke, too?" He sighs, trying to be dramatic about it. "okay, put it on my tab." He seems more content now that he's drinking his honey, and you can't help but wonder if he spikes his condiment like the original Sans tended to do. 

"Thanks. Muffet, I'll take a bottle of whatever kind of alcohol you have. Whiskey? Vodka? Is your Spider Cider alcoholic? I never did get a chance to try it." Muffet doesn't show any surprise, but Papyrus nearly chokes on his honey. 

"not to sound _wine_ -y, but..." He glances at Muffet, who is making quick use of her many arms to open you up a bottle and set a glass in front of you, then pour it. "aren't you making a _pour_ decision, honey?"

"Nope," you simply state, taking the glass and gulping back the drink. There's no label on the bottle, but the liquid is a light amber and burns when it slides down your throat. You don't mind the sting, though, but you still can't help making a face once you've got it down. You've only tried alcohol when it was cut with ketchup, the time that you swiped Sans's bottle and discovered his secret. Quickly, you gulp back another two mouthfuls of the liquid, and Papyrus starts to noticeably sweat. 

"woah, easy there. it's not going anywhere, so slow down." 

"You're the one that wanted to come with me," you shoot back, finishing off the glass. In one smooth motion, you set it down and grab the bottle, swinging around on the stool to stand up. You don't feel anything yet, but you know you really do want to go for a walk, so you start for the door. Papyrus jumps off the stool and follows.

"where are you going?" 

"On a walk. I need to get out," you claim, heading out the door and back into the snow. You take another sip straight from the bottle and it warms you up; you can feel it spreading through your extremities from your chest. It feels nice. You begin walking through the snow, dragging your feet to kick up piles with your boots. Papyrus walks at your side, but you refuse to acknowledge him. Instead, you drink more, and soon, you've found yourself in Waterfall. 

"I missed this place," you murmur, looking around in wonder. It's not as cold without the snow, but the cavern still holds quite a chill. 

"you've been here before, too, huh?" 

"I've been everywhere," you answer quietly, the liquid sloshing around in the bottle as you walk, holding it by the glass neck. Your free hand reaches out and lightly touches the petals of an Echo Flower. You consider whispering your secrets to it, your feelings, but not with Papyrus standing right there. If only the Echo Flowers could be heard through timelines.

"is there someone you miss in another timeline?" 

Papyrus's question startles you, and then you realize that you had said that aloud. You don't look back at him, nor do you give him an answer. Instead, you continue your walk, tilting your head up to look at the faux stars glittering in the cavern's ceiling. 

"They're beautiful, but after a while, you miss the real thing," you murmur, your thoughts slipping past your lips. Is this what alcohol does? You're starting to feel it now. Your face is slightly numb, and your arms feel both heavy and light, a strange contradiction. Walking feels weird, like everything is sloshing around in your head, much like the liquid in the bottle. You smile, feeling light, and take another long gulp. 

"seriously, honey, i think you've had enough." Papyrus reaches toward you, going for the bottle. You reach out and press your palm against his chest while hiding the bottle behind your back. The motion makes you stumble, and you barely catch yourself; he grasps your upper arms in both of his skeletal hands. You tilt your head back to look up at him, your eyes slightly glazed over. 

"I had enough a long time ago, but.. but hey, we've all gotta atone, right?" He tilts his head slightly, his brow bone shifting in confusion. You giggle, sliding your hand up his chest to touch his brow, running your fingertip along it in fascination. He stiffens, the eyelights in his sockets disappearing as you explore his face. He's not even breathing. You continue on as if you aren't invading his personal space, "But I need to numb it a little, 'kay? Jus.. Jus' for now. Everyone is so far away, and I'm.. jus'... tired. I jus' don't wanna think about it for a while. D...Do you under..stand?" You're feeling fuzzier the more time kicks in, likely because you haven't had much to eat and don't have any real alcohol tolerance. 

Papyrus finally nods, and you pull away completely from his hands. The lights in his eye come back, but he appears rattled; his face is lit up bright orange, and he's looking away. So, he's easily flustered, you discover. That information could come in handy. You turn on your heel and continue on through Waterfall, Papyrus slowly ambling a couple of steps behind you. You touch mushrooms, making them light up, and drink a little more. The liquid is easy to get down now; you don't even notice the burn, and despite the fact that it's a bit chilly, you feel so warm. 

You pause at a gap in the path. There's a waterfall cascading down the wall of rock, and a deeper portion of water spanning the area. Normally, you would have to make a flower bridge to cross, but... well, you don't care about crossing. You kneel down by the water, its strange glow lighting up your features. You know it's actually the algae in the water that gives it the luminescent quality, but you still find it beautiful. 

So you decide you want to swim. 

Setting the bottle down, you kick off your boots and Papyrus finally seems to realize what you're doing. "oh hey, i can just take us across. i know a shortcut," he claims, and you know he means that he could teleport you across. 

"I don't wanna cross it," you claim, shaking your head. In the next instant, you slip into the river, the cold water making you gasp; it reaches almost to your armpits. Your sweater billows out around your body, and you swim forward, toward the waterfall. You can hear Papyrus protesting behind you, but you don't pay him any mind. Instead, you move until you're directly under the waterfall, letting it act as a shower. The water is freezing against your skin, but you don't care. You're numb, you're numb, nothing hurts--

And then a pair of arms come from behind you, pulling you out of the rushing water and against the hard plane of someone's chest. You're lifted up higher out of the water, and you struggle weakly, trying to reach out for the waterfall. "Nooo, let goooo," you whine, your voice sounding thick. You've had too much to drink and your vision is fuzzy; you can see the water sloshing around beneath you, rocking back and forth as if you're on a boat. Papyrus grips you tighter, his mouth moving directly by your ear.

" _water_ you trying to do? freeze yourself to death?" The pun, thrown in so casually despite the circumstance, is almost your undoing. A frustrated shout rips past your lips, and you flail in his firm grasp, kicking up a spray of water like a child throwing a tantrum. He grunts, adjusting his hold on you, making _shushing_ noises to attempt to calm you down. 

"Shuddup! You're not.. _him._ You're not.." You slur, nearly choking on the words. The fight leaves your body; Papyrus is simply rocking you lightly in the water, keeping you held firmly against him. His hoodie is mostly soaked, but the heaviness of the fabric still feels good across you. Tilting your head back against his sternum, you breathe in, then out, watching the faux stars swirl over your head, like a moving galaxy. "I-I'm sorry... I'm sorry, Pa-papyrus.. Sans." 

"honey, it's okay. it's okay, shhh." 

You're not crying, even though you could; you voice is just breaking because your tongue feels fuzzy, your head is swimming, and you're shivering uncontrollably. "O..Okay, I'm okay. You can.. you can let go.." But you really don't want him to, and you have a feeling that if he did, your head would go straight under the water. He doesn't reply, but you feel his mandible brush against your hair as he shakes his head.

In the next moment, you're in the middle of his bedroom. Your vision is already swimming so much that the disorientation of teleporting doesn't even phase you. Your clothes are absolutely soaked; both of your wet attire is causing a puddle to rapidly form on the discarded clothes strewn throughout the floor. At least the house is warm, though the sudden contrast makes you realize just how freezing your skin feels. 

Papyrus releases you, but you sway on your feet, so he sighs and guides you down to sit on the floor. He moves away, but you lean forward and grab onto the hem of his hoodie, stretching it out. "W..Where are ya goin'?" 

"i'm not leaving, honey. i just need to change out of these wet clothes." He pries your fingers from his hoodie and then strips it over his head. He's wearing a black T-shirt underneath that's clinging to his ribs. You take the time to appreciate the difference in his body compared to your other skeleton lover. But even then, red-eyed Sans had only ever pulled his shirt up to his sternum. And the original Sans was seldom seen without his jacket or T-shirt, even when he slept. 

"Take off your shirt." Curiosity causes the words to slip past your lips, uninhibited. Papyrus jerks like you slapped him, slowly looking down at you. You're still seated on your knees on the floor, your head wobbling slightly on your shoulders, gaze glazed over and sweater clinging to your curves, the hem bunched up above your thighs. You see the magic rise to his cheekbones, orange tinting them instantly. 

"..uh...what..." 

You scoot closer on your hands and knees, and to his credit, Papyrus doesn't take a step back. Instead, he's watching you like you're about to dust him, his eyelights tiny and focused. Smirking, you sit up on your knees in front of him and grab the hem of his shirt, pushing it upward. His hand curls around your wrist, but his grip is loose and doesn't impede your progress. You feel your palm scrape over his wet ribs, your skin bumping over each protrusion. He keeps opening and closing his jaw, as if he wants to say something. The sucker he had been previously rolling around in his teeth is nowhere to be found. "I want to see... what ya look like without it..." you murmur, pushing it up as high as you can without standing. When its bunched up halfway around his sternum, you stare up at him.. and suddenly, your finger curls around a rib, running along the smooth surface. He sucks in a gasp and finally jerks backward enough that you break the contact, his hand pulling your wrist away. His entire face is lit up bright orange. 

"wh..what are you trying to do to me here?" he asks, exasperated and nervous.

"I told you.. I just wanna see you without that shirt. 'sides, it's wet," you claim, feigning innocence. The smirk hasn't left your lips. Teasing him has left you forgetting again, and it feels so nice to forget. 

"so's yours," he shoots back, and his gaze briefly sweeps over your body, lingering... before he manages to drag it away. 

"Good point~" you sing out, before drawing back enough to take your sweater by the hem and yank it over your head. You hear him make a strangled sound, like he wanted to say something, but it's too late; you're now shirtless in only you bra and tights in front of him. Any other time, you would have felt embarrassed, but.. the alcohol makes your mind too fuzzy to care and the heat of the house feels nice against your clammy skin. 

Papyrus is pointedly looking away, one hand covering his mouth, his face still bright orange. You tilt your head to the side and grin, leaning forward to touch the inside of his lower vertebrae. Choking on air, he grabs your hand again, staring back down at you before he can help himself.

"honey, you're wasted. you're drunk. l..let me get you some warm clothes," he insists, trying to back away from you. However, you're relentless and keep grabbing for him. You can swear that you see something briefly glow from his pants, before he manages to get it under control. 

"Jus' get out of your own wet clothes." Your gaze shifts up to meet his, and his reluctance is making you start to feel sad over this game. You can feel your mood begin to shift. 

Papyrus sees your smile fading around the edges, and he sighs. "ok. ok, i'll take it off." He steps beyond your reach and simply peels the rolled up shirt off, tossing it into a corner of his room with the rest of his dirty clothes. He looks just like you'd expect--like a skeleton--but his bones are longer and his build is leaner than Sans's. You feel a flush creep to your cheeks. If other humans knew that you found skeletons attractive, you'd be considered a freak for sure. 

Papyrus coughs, and then sputters, "...wha..what was that?" His face is positively glowing. 

Oh. 

Shit, you said that last part out loud again. Whoops.

Your filter is really gone tonight.

You shrug; no sense denying it. "You heard me."

Papyrus looks rattled, but he still moves to his closet, where he pulls out a new shirt. "Noooo," you whine, slumping over on the floor. The clothes pile you're half-lying across is actually pretty comfortable, so you decide to lie down all the way, your head pillowed on your arm as you watch him. "Don't put it on."

"it's for you, honey," he remarks, unable to keep from smiling. He tosses it to you, but you simply bat it away. Nah, you're not going to wear that. You have other plans. 

"Your pants are soaked, too," you point out, nestling into his pile of dirty laundry. It all smells like smoke, but also.. pine, like the outside forest. Maybe a little bit sweet, too, like honey--or the inside of Muffet's. You find that you like the scent, even though you used to hate the smell of cigarette smoke on clothing. Something about the strange combination makes it tolerable now.

Plus, cigarette smoke reminds you of a certain skeleton leaning down into your face and growling _mine_.

"... so're.. wait, i'm not going to say it." He runs his hand across his face, bone scraping bone. "listen, you need to just sleep this off for a bit, ok?" Papyrus comes over to you and scoops you up bridal-style from the clothing pile, to lift you up to the bed. He places you on the mattress and pulls the covers up over you, but you reach up and get a firm grip on his neck, pressing your body against his chest. You can feel his bones against your skin, as well as the heat emitting from the magic pooled in his face. You're trembling, and you're not even certain it's from the cold this time. 

"Please... stay with me."

"honey, i--" 

"Jus' lie with me, okay? That's all." Something in your voice, which comes out tiny and nearly-broken, gives Papyrus pause. 

"ok." Resigned, he nods, and you loosen your hold enough to allow him to slip into the bed beside you. His pants are soaking wet, as are your tights, but neither of you move to take them off. Instead, you wrap your arms around his torso and place your cheek to his sternum, one hand lightly trailing along the edges of his ribs. He shivers lightly at the touch, but doesn't stop you.

The world is still rocking, so you close your eyes. You feel his phalanges come up to your back, lightly touching your skin, prodding at the soft, squishy texture to your skin. "honey, can i ask you something?"

"Hmm?"

"if you're really from another timeline.. did you and i.. well.. did we.. uh..." He trails off, unsure how to phrase it. "...nevermind."

Your eyes open half-lidded, and you crane your head back to look up at Papyrus. In your mind, he's Sans. You've already figured out that people are simply.. swapped.. in this timeline. He's just Sans in his brother's body. In your inebriated state, this is easier to accept. Still, instead of giving him a straight answer, you ask, "What makes you.. think that?" After all, the last Sans thought that you were his girlfriend from another reality, too. 

When you actually never were.

He shrugs one shoulder, and you feel his bones shift beneath your skin. "i just feel like.. i dunno.. connected to you? and you seem to know an awful lot about me." He holds your gaze. "and you said i'm not him. so what'd that mean?"

You're silent for a moment, but then you look away and close your eyes again. "Just what it sounds like. You're not him.. but you are.." You arm tightens around his ribcage, and you snuggle closer, hooking a damp leg around his. Without thinking, you press a kiss to the bottom of his sternum, causing him to jolt. Your head feels too fuzzy to explain. "Timelines are weird."

Your body is beginning to feel like lead, and you're trying to draw as much warmth from his bones as possible, pressing yourself flush against him. The arm you're lying on shifts and your fingertips brush the iliac crest of his pelvis, just barely protruding from his waistband. He sucks in a breath through his teeth, his fingers momentarily digging into your spine, before he resumes his lazy exploration of what bony ridges he can feel beneath your skin. 

"were...were we lovers?" His inquiry comes out slightly breathless. You hear it, but you don't respond. Instead, you keep your eyes shut tight and pretend to already be asleep. After a while, he exhales heavily, but keeps exploring your skin, his bony fingers sliding across your back, your shoulders, your sides. You try to stay conscious of the touch for as long as you can, but eventually, your alcohol-ridden mind is pulled into the abyss of sleep.

In your dreams, you _swear_ you feel a breath fan by your ear and inhale the scent of mustard and smoke. The phantom hand touches your neck, forcing your head to tilt back, while sharp teeth graze the juncture of your neck and shoulder, bringing the nerves of your skin to life. 

_you're mine, got it?_

But as soon as the feeling was there, it was gone, slipping through your fingers as you found yourself begging for it to come back. 

For _him_ to come back. 

When you come back into consciousness, your stomach is rolling and you promptly lean over the side of the bed to vomit all over the clothes piles beneath. 

Turns out, Papyrus was right. 

Drinking really was a _pour_ decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reader dealing with all the timeline-hopping depression made this chapter feel a little... blah compared to the rest. But the next chapter is going to be fluff and a probably a bit of smut, so get ready.  
> And keep your AU suggestions coming! I love to hear which ones your guys want, as well as who your favorite skele is. I'm still keeping that tally going! 
> 
> & thank you to everyone that's left me comments; I love talking to you guys! Maybe I need a tumblr for my sins? That could be fun.


	5. *You're vomiting glitter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> US!Paps takes care of you, so you decide to show him a little appreciation. You also go on a date with Stretch and Blueberry, you lucky sinner, you. 
> 
> *You're a vomit dragon and a serial-dater.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Smut warning! There's only a little smut, but it's definitely a NSFW chapter.
> 
> Sorry I missed the update last week. December's always a hectic month for me at work. Things'll become more regular again after the New Year, promise.

Your vomit sparkles, you discover when you wake up alone again. 

You've dispelled an ungodly amount of glitter from your stomach thanks to your intolerance for monster alcohol. Or maybe you have food poisoning on top of your hangover; you aren't exactly sure. It's on the bed beside you ( _no wonder Papyrus is nowhere to be found_ , you think grimly), in your hair, and on the dirty clothes strewn across the floor. The room stinks of sick, soured clothes, and tacos. It's enough to make your stomach roll again, but you honestly don't think there's anything left in your system to heave up. With a groan, you push yourself up in the bed, pressing the heel of your palm into your forehead. Your head is killing you, and the world is still slightly spinning. On top of that, you realize you're only in your bra and tights, lying on wet sheets. 

You only remember bits and pieces of what happened last night. Deciding to lose yourself, you had drank for the second time in your life, and got carried away. You vaguely remember deciding to swim.. and not much after. You do recall falling asleep next to Papyrus and tracing your fingers along his ribs, but you don't remember him leaving. 

Waking up with a feeling of shame and guilt is becoming a reoccurring thing for you, so you decide to skip the part where you beat yourself up for your questionable decisions. Your head is throbbing too hard for that, anyway. Instead, you begin scanning the room for your discarded dress so you can contain at least a shred of your modesty. You don't see it lying on the floor, but something catches your eye at the foot of the bed. There's a pair of sweatpants, much like the ones you borrowed from red-eyed Sans, and a long-sleeved orange shirt folded on top of one another. There's also a box of crackers, a bottle of water, and a container of pills. Leaning forward, you pull the bundle toward you, scan the label of the pills (which, surprisingly, are human-made but beyond their expiration date-- did he find these in the Dump? Oh well, beggars can't be choosers.), and pop three into your mouth before washing them down. Anything to take the edge off. Afterward, you take the time to eat a few of the crackers, having to go slow to keep your stomach from revolting. 

When you finally feel like you can move without becoming a vomit dragon again, you shove the covers back and decide to take advantage of their shower. Being careful to step around the sparkling vomit, you clutch the clothes to your chest and cross the room. Peeking outside the door, you realize that the house is quiet. You don't know what time it is, but since you passed out in the early afternoon yesterday, you estimate that it's probably very early in the morning of the next day. You make a break for the hall bathroom, dashing quickly across the upstairs landing, and then lock the door behind you. 

The shower helps; it makes you feel human again. The steam takes away your nausea for a moment and soothes your headache, and you end up smelling so much better. You stay in the shower entirely too long, but the hot water never runs out, and it feels too good to leave. When you finally do get dressed and finger-comb the knots out of your wet hair, you still feel kind of sick, but no where near as bad. Like with Sans's sweatpants, you have to roll the waistband of Papyrus's several times since he's quite taller than you. His shirt also seems like a dress on you, but it's warm and comfortable, so you don't care. You head back out, your tights and panties balled into your hands so you can wash them. 

In the bedroom, you find Papyrus is back. The sheets have been stripped from the bed, a good chunk of the clothes surrounding the bed are gone, and he's cleaning the carpet with a rag. 

When he glances up at you, you're absolutely mortified. 

"I was going to get that!" you shout, though your voice comes out cracked and hoarse. You have to clear your throat several times to get it to sound semi-normal. You must have thrown up more than you realized. "Here--don't do it anymore. Let me." 

You move toward him, shuffling your balled up clothing into one hand while reaching out with the other. He simply grins and shakes his head, resuming his task. "no need, honey. you just relax. i'm almost done." You open your mouth to protest, but he turns his skull slightly toward you, glancing over from the corner of his eyesocket. "how are you feeling? i see you found the clothes."

Your face is bright red, and you feel self-conscious. "I feel better after the shower." You take in a deep breath. "Look, I'm sorry about yesterday. I'm not usually like this.. but, things have gotten a little out-of-hand, and well.. I'm sorry." You realize you've been saying that quite often lately, but at the same time.. you think it will never be enough. 

He waves a hand, finally standing up. The floor no longer sparkles, but his rag does. It looks like a craft store exploded on it. "don't worry about it. everyone has those days, and if anyone's entitled to it, you are." He shrugs, and the motion coupled with his relaxed smile makes you think of Sans. You desperately want to tell him that he's wrong, that you deserve every Hell you receive, but what's the point? You keep bringing all of this on yourself. Instead, you simply nod and look away. "honey, i don't know what happened to bring you here.. but, you're here now. we were friends before, right? where you came from?"

You manage to drag your gaze back to him. He's still got that chill expression, and you think of Sans and Papyrus overlapped. Memories of both of them come to mind, and you force yourself to only focus on the happy ones. You also picture red-eyed Sans, holding your back against his chest protectively. You have to blink to keep your eyes from feeling hot. "Yeah.. Yeah, we were friends." Your voice cracks a little on the word, but you're smiling.

"then we're friends now, too. it seems like you've been through a hell of a lot, so if you need to come apart every now and then, i'm not gonna fault you, honey. it's ok to take a break." He steps forward and takes your ball of tights from you. "i'll wash these for ya. i made some pancakes for you in the kitchen, if you feel up to eating them."

You're too impressed by the fact that he actually cooked something to remember your balled-up panties rolled into the tights he's now holding. "You can cook?"

"heh. not as good as my bro."

###### 

It turned out that Papyrus--well _this Sans-Papyrus_ \--could follow simple instructions and cook. The pancakes were a little inconsistent; some were gooey in the middle, while others were charred on the bottom. However, they were completely devoid of glitter, and tasted wonderful when you coated them with syrup. You even decided to mix some honey on them because you were feeling frisky. 

While Papyrus did the laundry, you ate half of the pancakes and entirely too many crackers. Your stomach is mostly settled, although it still feels a little off, but by the time the little blueberry Sans comes into the kitchen, your headache has been reduced to a dull throb. Which is fortunate because he doesn't have an inside voice.

"HUMAN! I'M SO GLAD TO SEE THAT YOU'RE ALL RIGHT!" The energetic skeleton throws himself on you, his arms tight around your waist so that he is practically sprawled across your lap. "PAPY TOLD ME YOU WERE SICK IN BED, SO I HAD TO KEEP MY VOICE DOWN!"

He's adorable, like a mini-Papyrus with literal stars in his eyes. You rub his back, pulling his skull to your shoulder to return the embrace. "I'm sorry I worried you, Sans. But I'm all better now. Your brother took care of me," you claim, and Sans pulls back to note the fact that you still had half-eaten pancakes in front of you. 

"PAPY! YOU SHOULD HAVE WOKEN ME UP! I WOULD HAVE COOKED THE HUMAN FOOD TO MAKE THEM FEEL BETTER!" 

"sorry bro. next time, i will." Papyrus came out of nowhere, likely through teleportation, to lean against the kitchen counter. He had a faint orange glow across his cheekbones, but you weren't sure why. 

Sans pouts. "I DIDN'T GET TO HELP YOU FEEL BETTER. I'M NOT DOING MY JOB AS YOUR CAPTOR." He's so sincere that you can't help but feel bad-- yet you know that his tacos would _not_ have stayed in your stomach. The kitchen floor would have ended up a glittery disaster zone. 

"Sure, you are," you insist, before remembering that yesterday, he had wanted to show you his puzzles. You had blown that by getting drunk. "Oh, do you want to show me your puzzles today? I'm sorry I missed out on seeing them yesterday."

He automatically brightens, his gloved hands clutching your forearms as he stands upright. "YES! I RECALIBRATED THEM YESTERDAY, SO THEY'RE READY TO SHOW YOU!" He's practically bouncing with excitement over the idea, but he manages to pause and try to reign it in. "ARE YOU SURE YOU FEEL WELL ENOUGH TO GO SEE THEM?" His eyelights flicker toward Papyrus, then back to you.

His concern is touching. You smile and nod; you can do this for him. You can make him happy. "Definitely. In fact, I think seeing them would make me feel even better," you add, and you can see Papyrus's grin broaden from the corner of your eye. Sans beams up at you, tapping his fist against his chest. 

"IN THAT CASE, LET'S GO! I, THE MAGNIFICENT SANS, WILL DO EVERYTHING IN MY POWER TO MAKE YOU WELL, HUMAN!"

Smiling, you allow him to pull you to your feet, but spare a glance over at Papyrus, quirking a brow to make sure it's okay. It's not like you need his permission, but you still want to run it by him. He gives you a slight nod, though doesn't move from his spot by the counter. As you're heading to the door, you realize you don't have your boots on. "Ah.. where are my--?" Shit, did you leave them in Waterfall when you decided to swim?

"by the couch," Papyrus calls out, anticipating the question. Sure enough, your boots are lying over there, and you realize that he must have teleported back to Waterfall to get them. Or did he bring them with you both in the first place? Details are still fleeting and hazy at best. 

"Thanks!" you call back as you slide your boots on and then leave the house with Sans pulling you by the hand like an energetic child and rattling on ninety-to-nothing about the various puzzle mechanics he's been working on.

###### 

You were going to be the death of Papyrus.

First of all, you had gotten plastered. That would have been fine, if you weren't so reckless. In your drunken state, he had been terrified that you were going to drown yourself, apparently because you needed to 'atone' or something? All he could gather from the bits and pieces you revealed yesterday was that something awful had occurred in the other timeline, something that could make you want nothing more than to numb yourself and forget. 

And then you had teased him like the vixen you are, practically clawing his shirt off his body and going for his pants. You had even voiced something about being attracted to skeletons, which completely boggled his mind. He could see the appeal that humans held; they had a softness to them that his bones didn't. He found that he liked the feeling of your smooth skin, of your curves pressed into his ribcage, of the way he could just barely feel the spinous processes of your vertebrae beneath your flesh. But he never would have guessed that you would find his bones attractive. 

He had surmised that you must have had a prior relationship with a skeleton from your timeline, and since you claimed to already know him and his brother... he assumed the relationship had been with him. That would make sense of the way you practically threw yourself at him in your drunken state. You claimed he wasn't _him_ , whoever that was. You missed someone from that timeline, and the way you looked at him.. so torn up, like you were searching him for a glimpse of another version. Well, it seemed obvious. 

You passed out before you could answer his question and confirm his suspicions, but he could feel it in his bones that he was right. It had taken all of his restraint last night not to take you right there in the bed last night; your lips on his sternum and hand on his iliac crest was enough to almost make him come undone. But, he managed to hold onto his morals just barely, firmly reminding himself that you were wasted. And if he slept with you while you were thinking of whoever he was in another timeline, then he could never forgive himself. 

So, he had stayed up most of the night, just watching you sleep on his chest and exploring your exposed skin beneath his phalanges, before his phone had drawn him from the bed. His brother had been on the other end, excitedly wanting you to come see his puzzles since he had finished his calibrations, and Papyrus had to explain to Sans that you were ill. When the little skeleton had come running back to try and nurse you back to health, Papyrus had spent a long time explaining that you needed your rest and Sans had to keep his voice down. Both skeletons could hear you throwing up periodically, and Papyrus checked on your throughout your sleep to make sure you were all right. He even decided to make pancakes for the first time, and he thought they turned out pretty good, all things considered. 

And then he had found your panties balled up in your tights, and his skull had lit up bright orange while he did the laundry. Admittedly, he held onto them several seconds longer than was required, and when he finally teleported into the kitchen, he felt like a total pervert. You had turned him into this by getting him so worked up last night. He needed to get himself under control. So, he was glad to see you head out with Sans, to give him a moment to pull himself together. He lit his cigarette and took a long drag, trying to soothe his frayed nerves. 

He couldn't remember the last time he felt like this.

He had gone from assuming you were some kind of human assassin and being prepared to kill you, to fully believing you were a time-traveler that regularly boned him in another timeline. It should have been quite the stretch, but if you weren't telling the truth, then you were the best actress in the Underground. Papyrus thought of himself as an excellent judge of character, so he decided you were safe to be alone with his brother. You wouldn't hurt him; you didn't look like you could hurt anyone. 

So, he simply uncapped a bottle of honey and plopped down on the couch to space out and mindlessly watch MTT while he waited on the laundry to dry.

###### 

"AND WITH THIS ONE, YOU HAVE TO MAKE ALL THE X'S INTO O'S!" 

If there was one thing that seemed to be the same, it was the puzzles leading from the Ruins to Snowdin. You obliged Sans by taking part in his puzzles, the solutions coming back to you despite how many years it had been since you had seen them. Needless to say, Sans was impressed, continuously cheering you on and pumping his fist into the air. He even joined you in a few, and together, you slid across ice and his zealousness made you laugh. He was adorable, plain and simple, and you loved it. 

"IT'S RARE TO FIND SOMEONE THAT LOVES PUZZLES THIS MUCH! THAT'S WHAT YOU'RE THINKING WHEN YOU LOOK AT ME, RIGHT?" Sans poses once you reach Snowdin again, his little bandana billowing in the wind. You grin at the sight,

"You read my mind, Sans."

"I KNEW IT! YOU WANT TO BE FRIENDS! B..BUT WAIT! CAN I BE FRIENDS WITH SOMEONE I ALREADY CAPTURED? IS THAT A THING?"

You can see his expression falter, and it reminds you of all those years ago, when you first stood across from Papyrus. You had liked him; he was sweet and excitable, and from the way he spoke, you could tell he was torn. He had desperately wanted to be friends, yet his dream of joining the Royal Guard had dictated that he fight you. But even as he summoned bones and used his blue magic on your SOUL, he never intended to hurt you; in fact, there were a few times where he purposely moved you with his magic so you would avoid one of his attacks. And you had simply refused to fight, smiling and _flirting_ with him because it was amusing to watch a skeleton blush. 

And, let's be honest; back then, you really did have a crush on Papyrus. If he hadn't completely and utterly shot you down, it might have blossomed into something more. But when you were younger, you easily bounced around from crush to crush, liking those that showed you attention-- probably because you craved it in your life before the Fall. You didn't even develop feelings for Sans until he left that voicemail on your phone when you needed it the most. 

Your attention shifts back to the shorter skeleton beside you, staring up at you with that same torn expression Papyrus had worn right before he engaged you in a fight. You can still remember the line you used on Papyrus back then, the one that had lead to your date in his room. Your curiosity gets the better of you, and you find yourself shrugging, a smirk crossing your lips.

"Of course you can be friends with someone you captured. After all, you've already _captured_ my heart." You bring a hand up into a finger gun and point it at him for additional cheesiness. 

As anticipated, Sans's skull lights up a bright powder blue. "F..FLIRTING?" He crosses his arms and turns away to hide his abashment. "I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW... I'M A SKELETON OF VERY HIGH STANDARDS!" 

It was nearly word-for-word what you expected, and you feel giddy. A pretend date with this Sans is just what you need to make you feel better--and maybe it'll even propel your friendship, like it did with Papyrus. You lean over, placing your hand on his shoulder. "I can make tacos~" you practically sing.

Sans's jaw goes slack and he stares up at you. "OH NO! YOU'RE MEETING ALL OF MY STANDARDS!" He's still blushing, but his eyelights are back to being shaped like stars, and he's slowly appearing more and more excited. "I GUESS THIS MEANS.. WE SHOULD GO ON A DATE?" It's phrased in a question, and you nod, giggling.

"A friendship date," you add, which actually makes him bounce in the snow.

"WHAT ARE WE WAITING FOR? LET'S GO GET STARTED!" 

He drags you by the hand back to his house and bursts through the door. Papyrus jumps a little from his seat on the couch, nearly dropping his cigarette. From the ashtray filled with butts in front of him and the heavy smell of smoke, you'd say he's been chain-smoking since you both left. 

"geez, bro. you scared me right _out of my skin._ "

Despite the fact that the pun makes Sans grin, he still stomps his foot. "THERE'S NO TIME FOR JOKES, PAPY! THE HUMAN AND I ARE GOING ON A DATE IN MY ROOM!"

You feel Papyrus's eyelights zero-in on you, focused. His tone is careful. "oh, really?" He's looking right at you, his cigarette clenched tight between his teeth. You feel nervous, even though it's ridiculous.

"A friendship date," you clarify. Sans eagerly nods, dragging you toward the stairs. 

"I HAVE NO CHOICE SINCE SHE WAS FLIRTING WITH ME!" 

The cigarette in Papyrus's mouth snaps in two and he had to spit out the filter. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. You flounder with an excuse, but Sans is pulling you to his room. Papyrus stands and teleports to the top of the landing, beating both of you there. 

"sounds like fun. mind if i join?" His tone is completely casual, hands shoved into his pockets. 

"PAPY! YOU WANT TO DATE THE HUMAN, TOO?" Sans pauses at his bedroom door, looking at his brother in surprise. 

Papyrus shrugs. "i can't let you guys have all the fun now."

"WELL ALL RIGHT. LET'S BOTH DATE HER, THEN!" 

Now, _you're_ blushing bright red, and Papyrus is grinning wider.  "sounds like a good idea, bro."

He follows behind you as Sans leads you inside the bedroom where you first woke up in this timeline. Now that you have your bearings, you see that it does closely resemble Papyrus's room from your timeline. The bed may not be a racecar bed, but the headboard looks like a rocket ship. There are action figures on a table, a shelf filled with books, and a computer sitting off to the side. You awkwardly stand in the middle of the room, while Papyrus stands beside you, close enough that his elbow brushes against yours. The contact is enough to make you flinch, but you end up leaning back to settle your arm against his. You can feel the pinpricks of light from his eyesockets on you, but you stare straight ahead at Sans. 

The little blueberry retrieves a book from his shelf and holds it up proudly. "THANKFULLY, THE MAGNIFICENT SANS IS PREPARED FOR ANYTHING! EVEN THE MYSTERIES OF A WOMAN'S HEART!"

You manage to bite back a giggle that threatens to escape past your lips. He's too adorable, even though you know since he's Sans, he's likely even older than this Papyrus. He opens the book and begins reading very carefully, his brow bone furrowing in concentration. You spare a glance over at Papyrus and find that he now has the stick of a sucker dangling between his teeth. He catches your gaze and casually leans over further, so that your shoulder presses firmly against his humerus. 

"LET'S SEE. WE'VE ALREADY ESTABLISHED THAT WE'RE GOING ON A DATE, SO NOW.. WE GO SOMEWHERE SPECIAL. WE'RE IN MY ROOM, SO THERE'S NO WHERE MORE SPECIAL THAN THAT! OH! IT SAYS HERE TO WEAR SOMETHING NICE TO SHOW THAT YOU CARE." He glances over at you, eyelights appraising your Papyrus cosplay, and frowns. "YOU'RE WEARING PAPY'S CLOTHES! AND PAPY, YOU'RE DRESSED SO CASUAL! ARE EITHER OF YOU SURE YOU EVEN WANT A DATE?"

"you're wearing your battle body, bro. you always wear that," Papyrus points out with a shrug. 

Sans smirks. "I'M ALWAYS PREPARED, PAPY! I CAN CHANGE IN A SNAP! JUST WATCH!" With that, Sans bolts into his closet and shuts the door. 

Papyrus is unable to help himself from speaking just loud enough for Sans to hear, "heh, looks like he's got a skeleton or two in his closet." Sans groans loudly, and you can't help but laugh, shaking your head. That pun had actually been made on your date with the Papyrus from your timeline. This timeline, as swapped as it was, feels the most like your original one so far. No one's trying to kill you, although..

You still miss the other timelines, too.

While Sans is still changing, Papyrus leans over, his mouth right next to your ear. "so, tell me, honey.. last night you said i'm not him. so is _him_ my brother?"

You sputter, choking on your own sharp inhale, and look anywhere but at him. In a way, he's completely right, but at the same time, he's wrong. You can feel him staring at you, and your face is starting to burn as you fumble for the correct answer. So this is why he looked so pissed before; he thinks you were out flirting with Sans after last night. And you remember just enough to know that you had made a fool of yourself and demanded that he sleep next to you, so you're pretty sure that now it looks as if you're jumping between the brothers. 

Just as he starts to reach toward you, to force you to meet his gaze, Sans saves you by jumping out of the closet. The abruptness is enough to make Papyrus jump a little, his hand hurriedly retreating back into his hoodie pocket. Sans looks oblivious to your discomfort, however, instead striking a pose. He's wearing a shirt that reads SUPERB GUY in what appears to be permanent marker, and his bandana has been adjusted to look more like a cape. His shoulder pads now have flame decals on them. "WELL?" he prompts.

"I love it," you respond, giving him a thumbs up and a grin. Papyrus is wearing the same expression, while rolling the sucker around in his mouth. 

"lookin' good, bro."

"OF COURSE! I'M NOTHING IF NOT STYLISH!" He responds confidently, while staring down Papyrus. "YOU DIDN'T CHANGE!" 

"the human's already wearing date clothes, and me.. well, i wear mine under my hoodie." Casually, Papyrus divests himself of said hoodie, revealing only a black tank top that hangs off his frame, revealing a good portion of his ribs. You find your gaze drawn to the bones, and you suddenly vividly remember the part from last night where you practically demanded that he take off his T-shirt. You had lazily explored his ribs as you fell asleep last night, but you found yourself wanting to do it again sober, to be able to properly evaluate his reactions to your touch, rather than just feel like you were floating away, detached while the world spun around you.

He fixes you with a look that says he knows what you're thinking. You scramble through your fragmented memories, trying to figure out if you said anything weird last night, but you draw a blank. 

You certainly don't remember saying that you found skeletons attractive out loud, that's for sure.

Sans clears his throat, and you forcibly drag your gaze back to him. "NOW THAT WE'VE GOTTEN THAT OUT OF THE WAY.. THE NEXT PART IS TO COMPLIMENT YOUR DATE, AND YOU'VE BOTH ALREADY COMPLIMENTED ME, SO THAT PARTS DONE. WOWZERS, WE'RE MOVING THINGS ALONG FAST! HMM, BUT PAPY IS BEING LEFT OUT! HUMAN, YOU SHOULD COMPLIMENT HIM, TOO!" Sans looks to you, like a parent lecturing a child to play with the other kids. You feel your cheeks heat up.

"..Your shirt looks nice," you murmur, without even looking at Papyrus. He slips a casual arm over your shoulder and pulls you against him. You can clearly feel the notches of his ribs against your arm, even through the fabric of your sweater, and you find yourself thinking about last night again.. of the feeling of his ribs pressed against your belly, lightly scraping your skin as you stirred in your rest. You face flushes even brighter.

"heh, thanks honey. so does yours."

"PAPY! WE'RE NOT AT THE TOUCHING PART YET!" Sans scolds, turning back to his book. "...OH. YOU MUST HAVE READ AHEAD! THE NEXT PART IS CASUALLY TOUCHING YOUR DATE TO SHOW INTIMACY. WELL, OKAY!" Papyrus holds onto your shoulder tighter, and Sans comes over to slip an arm around your waist. He's a bit shorter than your original Sans, so the top of his skull only reaches your armpit, and that's all he could really reach. You're now in a skeleton-sandwich, but you don't hate the feeling. It just.. makes you feel a little sad still. 

Sans is still looking at your expectantly, so you raise your arms to slip one around Papyrus's waist and the other across Sans's shoulders. Papyrus is still carefully watching you, the stem of his sucker twirling between his teeth. Sans looks back to his book, and you try to read over his shoulder, but he turns the book away from you. You're beginning to wonder if the pages are actually blank. "NOW GIVE THEM A GIFT TO SHOW YOU REALLY CARE. LUCKY FOR ME, I'M ALWAYS PREPARED FOR THESE SITUATIONS!" He beams up at you, before pulling a taco from his pocket. Not only is it bound to be lint-covered, but it still has an unfortunate amount of glitter coating it, reminding you of the sparkling vomit that had decorated Papyrus's room earlier. You can feel your stomach churn at the thought of eating it. 

Papyrus doesn't come to your rescue this time. He's still watching you to see what you'll do. Sans's eyelights are stars again, and his cheekbones are tinged with blue. You think of your Papyrus, offering you his finely aged spaghetti from beneath his cap with a determined grin. 

You take the taco from him and hold your breath. 

Time to atone, sinner.

The bite you take from the taco makes you gag a little, and you find it nearly impossible to swallow. Instead, you chew it over and over, feeling your eyes water from the gritty texture of the glitter. "Mmmm." The sound comes from the back of your throat, and it's all you can manage with your face scrunched up and your gaze blurry with tears. 

"YOU MEAN YOU LIKE IT SO MUCH YOU COULD CRY?" Sans has taken this in the best possible way and begins hugging your waist, his head level with your chest. You tighten your grip on him to hug him back with the hand still gingerly clutching the taco. Papyrus suddenly moves his arm and plucks the taco from your grasp to hand it back to Sans. You're still chewing, so you're unable to voice the query reflected in your gaze. 

"my turn. but the gift i have for the human is in my room, bro. so i'm going to take her in there." Papyrus grasps your shoulders and pulls you backward, causing you to stumble against his chest. Sans looks confused, yet still happy over your 'praise' for his tacos. 

"IS IT SOMETHING SECRET?" he asks, unable to understand why he'd have to take you in there. You're suddenly nervous and want to tell Sans you'll stay with him, but you still can't manage to swallow. So you settle for making noises instead, which both skeletons ignore. 

"yeah, you could say that. sorry, bro. we'll be back out soon," he insists, and then, without even using the door to simply walk down the hall, he teleports you into his room. 

You're getting real sick of these skeletons just deciding on a whim to whisk you away, but at least now that you're away from Sans, you can walk over to the trash can and spit out the bite of taco. After scraping glitter from your tongue, you whirl around to face him, your arms spread out. "What is this all about?" you demand.

"you know what it's about. i need an answer," Papyrus insists, stepping toward you. He's completely focused, and despite the relaxed grin on his face, you find him incredibly intimidating. You find that you can't hold his gaze--his eyelights are too zeroed-in on you--but he reaches out to capture your chin, forcing you to look at him. "is the other skeleton from your timeline my brother?"

"I.. I don't know how to answer that," you manage, feeling your heart pounding in your chest. 

"try honesty. it makes these kind of answers pretty simple, honey."

Honesty? He _honestly_ didn't understand how complicated your situation was. But, fine, you decide to attempt to explain. "It's..." You take in a deep breath. "It's complicated." He opens his mouth, but you interrupt him. "Yes and no. Wait, hear me out. In my timeline.. my Papyrus acts just like your Sans, and my Sans acts just like _you_. Puns, lazy attitude, same messy bedroom.." You trail off, shrugging. Papyrus looks confused, but he seems to be understanding. 

"so in your timeline.. it's sans. but i'm.. actually that sans?"

"Uh.. Pretty much," you assent vaguely.

"and you and sans-me had a thing?"

You feel barely hear him over your heart pounding in your ears. "What makes you think that?"

He quirks a bony brow. "really? you practically _jumped my bones_ last night, and you're obviously missing someone. so is that someone me?"

You want to say yes. It's not really him; he's not really Sans. You know this, but you can't help it. Just like the red-eyed Sans wasn't really the Sans you betrayed, either. You only ever had a thing with red-eyed Sans, not the original, no matter how many nights you spent sleeping beside him on the couch, staving off each other's nightmares. 

Are you really this much of a liar? 

Memories of the red-eyed Sans's rough hands on your skin, of your wrists chained above your head, come to mind. 

It wouldn't _really_ be a lie anymore. 

So.. you incline your head in a nod, holding his searching gaze. "Y..Yeah, it is." 

Papyrus sighs, seeming relieved by your answer. "good. that makes sense then. it makes sense that i just.. want you so bad." His hand slips behind your head, and he pulls you flush against him with one arm. You gasp, but it's muffled against his teeth as he cranes his neck downward to kiss you. He's the second skeleton you've kissed now, and while you may have fantasized about kissing Papyrus as young preteen ( _DON'T CRY BECAUSE I WON'T KISS YOU! AFTER ALL.. I DON'T EVEN HAVE LIPS!_ ), you never realized it would be quite this amazing. 

Your arms wind around his neck, and you rock onto the balls of your feet so he doesn't have to bend quite as much. He keeps you pulled against him, and you feel his magical tongue manifest, his magic tingling against your lips. Automatically, yours part and your teeth scrape the ecto-tongue, drawing a soft groan from him that has his phalanges pulling your hair. 

It's another opportunity where you could have talked to him about what happened in the other timelines, where you could have opened up and shared your sins and been judged. But you once again chose to drown your sorrows by letting go and just feeling good. If Papyrus wanted to kiss you, then you would let him, and you would enjoy it. Even when your thoughts try to pull you out of the moment, to remind you of the Sans you took everything from and the red-eyed skeleton that called you _sweetheart_ , you only push your tongue harder against Papyrus's and cling to him so tightly that it's a wonder you don't split his ribcage apart.

He tastes of sweet honey, smoke, and sin. You abandon the dregs of your morals and hike a leg around his pelvis, dragging it flush to yours. You can feel a hardness there that definitely isn't bone, and you remember a part of last night where you saw something glow from his pants. You had turned him on then, you realize, and you can easily have him now. You can ride the bone zone until you feel better, until you can't feel anything but Papyrus wanting you, calling you _honey_ , and relishing in your body. It would be so easy to let go, to beg him to just let you stay like that forever, just like you pleaded with him to lie next to you last night. 

But instead, you reluctantly pull back from the kiss, catching a glimpse of his magical orange tongue before it retreats back between his teeth. The tingle of magic has left your mouth feeling numb and electrified--quite the contradiction--and you feel delirious as his eyesockets open halfway to look down at you. 

"wow. honey, you're amazing." He starts to lean back down for another kiss, but you pull back, unhooking your leg from the crest of his hip. He looks confused as you slowly begin to sink to the carpet, your hands sliding along his ribs until they reach the waistband of his pants. You hook your fingers in his waistband and start tugging it down, but he catches your wrists. 

"I just thought.. I should thank you for taking care of me last night," you state as an answer, your face flushed a vibrant crimson. You don't look up, but you hear him make a sound of realization before his grip slackens on your wrists. 

"ah. well... if you want to.." He trails off, and you have the feeling that his face is glowing--just like the inside of his pants. When you pull them down his hips, you come face-to-face with a magic phallus that's glowing a faint orange. You've never given a blowjob before, but when you were sixteen, you once attempted to deep-throat a banana after hearing some girls at school talk about it being good practice. 

You figure it's the same principle, so before you can psyche yourself out, you lean forward and take his magic cock halfway into your mouth, while running your tongue along the underside to taste it. It's vaguely citrusy, and contains the same electric thrum of magic as his tongue, making your mouth tingle in the same way. You hear him sharply suck in through clenched teeth, and his fingers tangle in your hair. Deciding that was a good reaction, you begin working it in and out of your mouth, trying to relax your throat to get him in deeper and deeper each time. His fingers periodically tighten in your hair, occasionally pulling your mouth down harder on his length. You use his grunts, gasps, and groans to gage what he likes and get creative with it, swirling your tongue around the tip, and even grazing it lightly with your teeth. 

At one point, his fingers pull on your hair lightly to try and get you to ease up. "honey, if you keep going like that..."

You understand the warning and nod, bracing yourself as you pick up speed and suck on him harder. After a few more quick head bobs, you feel something hot squirt down the back of your throat. It tastes sweet and somewhat fruity and tingles all the way down. You wonder if it's harmful, swallowing magic like that, but at the same time, you don't feel like asking him about magical semen--just like you didn't feel like asking red-eyed Sans. At this point, you just decide to accept it. 

Besides, questioning it might raise red flags since you're supposedly his lover from a past timeline, right?

Once you release him from your mouth, he dissipates the magic and you're left just staring at his pelvic girdle. He coaxes you back to your feet and kisses you again, this time in appreciation. "that was.. that was.. wow. it was something else, honey." He begins guiding you toward his mattress, which is still sans-sheets. "here, let me return the favor," he insists, his hands already pulling the hem of your sweater up. It takes all of your willpower to grasp his wrist. 

"No, I just wanted to thank _you_ for last night. That can come later.. if we stay in here any longer, won't Sans start knocking down the door?" you remind him with a teasing smile. You really would like him to ravage your body, but you're trying not to be completely selfish. Plus, if Sans busted in on the two of you in the act, you would be driven to **RESET** strictly from mortification!

"ugh, you just have to be the voice of reason, don't you? fine, let's head back.. just as long as the friendship taco isn't the _only_ taco i eat tonight." His grin turns shit-eating, and you blush brightly as you smack his shoulder. Chuckling, he pulls his pants back up and gives you another solid kiss. 

When you emerge and head downstairs, Sans is watching television and lights up at the sight of you both. "HUMAN! DID PAPY GIVE YOU SOMETHING GOOD?" He tilts his skull slightly as you come down the stairs. "YOUR HAIR LOOKS A LITTLE OFF." 

"actually, she gave me something," Papyrus slyly responds, while you smooth your hair down in the back. Your face is still pretty flushed, and that little comment only makes things worse. Again, you retaliate by ribbing him with your elbow, and he chuckles.

"REALLY? WHAT WAS IT? I WANT ONE TOO!"

That innocent remark is enough to get Papyrus laughing and you wanting to crawl under the couch. Instead, you say, "Why don't I do something nice for you instead? What would you like to do?" He'd already shown you his puzzles, so you didn't know what else there was besides eating more of his super special awesome friendship tacos. While he strokes his chin thoughtfully, trying to come up with something, you and Papyrus sit on the couch beside him. 

"LET ME THINK FOR A MOMENT!" 

Nodding, you begin to mindlessly watch NTT, leaned against Papyrus's side while he idly toys with your hair. Sans decides that he can casually touch you after your date, too, so he also cuddles into your side, leaving you sandwiched between them again. Feeling content, you close your eyes and begin to nap, but it isn't long before Sans finally comes up with something and snaps you abruptly back into reality. 

"I'VE GOT IT! HOW ABOUT YOU COME TO WATERFALL WITH ME?" 

You look to him and smile; a walk through Waterfall could be nice. "Sure, I'm down for that." 

Excitedly, he bounds from the couch, and you follow. Papyrus falls in-step in the rear, while Sans pulls you by the hand. Grinning, he excitedly talks about everything he loves in Waterfall, and you take in the sights from the day before, enjoying the calm of the cavern. You could make a life in this timeline; no one's trying to kill you. It's close to your original timeline, only Sans and Papyrus have essentially swapped bodies. The skelebros both like you, and if you want to attempt to break the barrier later, you can. You can always just take it day by day.

"AND THERE'S EVEN A PIANO IN ONE OF THE CAVERNS! I HAPPEN TO ENJOY PLAYING IT, AND... OH! LOOK! I WAS HOPING SHE WOULD BE HERE SO I COULD INTRODUCE YOU, AND WE CAN ALL BE FRIENDS! ALPHYS, THIS IS--"

And there, out of nowhere, an armor-clad figure strikes toward you so suddenly, that you don't have time to react. She doesn't call out your SOUL for battle. She doesn't give you any kind of backstory pity speech. Instead, you see the righteous fury and the hate clear on her reptilian face, the visor of her helmet flipped up. The meek, well-mannered introvert you know has swapped with the fearless warrior, and there's a battle axe clasped in her hand.

Alphys breathes out in exertion, and you can't inhale. Her axe has cleaved right through you.

Distantly, you hear Sans scream and magic manifests; you can tell by the electricity in the air, like static going across your skin. There's hands on your shoulders as you slump against Papyrus, and you can hear his panicked voice calling you _honey_ , begging you to hold on. 

You should have just stayed in his room and sinned. You were a fool to forget that you were still a human in the Underground, that there were still plenty of monsters that wanted your SOUL. Now, you were going to LOAD back who knows how far back. You might have to go through the date all over again, but at least you could stay inside tonight and let Papyrus take all of your pain away.

Everything fades to black, but instead of LOADing a scene change, you're stuck in the darkness. A single option comes into view, the colors flipping and inverting with static. Portions of the edges are missing like jigsaw pieces, occasionally glitching back into view. All-in-all, the option looks even worse.

 **RESET**.

There is no LOAD. 

Even though you can't see your arms, you can still feel their phantom touch on your face as you press your palms to your cheeks. Did you ever SAVE? Were you ever filled with DETERMINATION about anything? Or were you too busy lamenting your losses and poor choices, getting drunk, then sick, and then struggling against giving into your carnal desires? 

" _Shit!_ " 

You know what's going to happen when you press that button. You know you're not going to see that Papyrus or Sans again. You've lost your chance to settle down there, and now you have no choice but to press on. 

But that doesn't mean that you don't scream obscenities into the Void until your voice breaks and you're hoarse. 

When you finally calm down enough to press the **RESET** button, the world around you abruptly shifts. You blink against the sudden bright light compared to the darkness of that in-between, and when your vision finally adjusts, you find yourself standing in the snow.

The cold wind cuts through your thin sweater, and you draw your arms against your sides. There are snow-covered houses nestled quaintly around you, with a large Christmas tree in the center. You're in the middle of Snowdin, strangely enough, but you know better than to get your hopes up by now. Something has to be different, and you're unsure if you'll be killed on-sight or not by whatever types of monsters may live here. It must be the middle of the night because even the neon sign of Grillby's is extinguished. As you skirt the tree, however, you notice someone standing beneath a street light, their back turned to you. Cautiously, you draw nearer, your crunching footsteps way too loud in the silence of the night. 

Suddenly, the person turns and you stop. 

It can't really be...

The blue hoodie, the easy grin that spreads upon seeing you--his eyesocket even closes in a wink! You've found him again, you're home, you're back, you're going to make sure everything is different this time! The **RESET** finally brought you back, and everything else that happened were just glitches.

But it's only when you break out into a sprint toward Sans that you realize you were wrong.

This isn't your timeline.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh shit, what AU is it going to be this time? I decided to save Swapfell for a little later since we've already spent so much time in Swap and Underfell as it is. I need to shake things up! The next AU will only last a single chapter, so things will move on a bit more quickly. 
> 
> If you're enjoying the fic, be sure to leave me a comment! Reading through them really inspires me to sit down and write. x]


	6. *you're a dirty dancer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You dance with the skelebros, and you feel more than just guilt.
> 
> * You're a ballerina, whether you like it or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to get done. Honestly, writing dance moves from the second-person perspective isn't all that fun. 
> 
> But hey, special shout-out to **itssjustmonique** and **Excel_Lynt** because when I checked my inbox today and saw their messages, I got inspired enough to sit down and finish this.  <3
> 
> I promise the next update won't take as long. 
> 
> Songs used:  
> The Tiny- Closer  
> Marc Anthony- Vivir mi vida  
> Megalovania (Symphonic Metal Cover)

You take off sprinting without a second thought, your feet slipping as they struggle to find purchase through the snow. Nearly losing your balance, you windmill your arms, your gaze never leaving the sight of Sans standing there. He's really here; you finally found your way back, and you can't help the wide grin that spreads across your face, the crest of a relieved sob causing your shoulders to shake as you release a watery laugh. Everything's going to be all right, and now you can figure out where you are in this timeline, if you're already friends or what, and go through it peacefully savoring every moment.

But you don't even make it halfway to him before your body suddenly stops on its own. You feel something stir in your SOUL... and then your arms rise toward your chest, covering where that crimson-colored little heart would be. 

You finally glance down and realize you're wearing a pink tutu.

>   
>  _And my heart was screamin' at my bones_  
>  _I need you closer_  
>  _As he's in the middle of the street_  
>  _Then I pretend he's mine to keep_  
> 

[Music is playing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S6kPXH9HJvE), and you can't figure out where the soft notes are coming from. It's as if someone just slid earbuds into your ears and cranked up the volume. Sans hasn't moved, instead just standing there beneath the flood of light, like a spotlight in a play. 

You, on the other hand, lift an arm out toward him, the other moving skyward from your chest. You feel the grips of an anxiety attack coming on; it feels like you're a marionette, forced to move. A part of you is trying to rationalize that it's just the music making you move, that Chara isn't inside of you anymore, but you're panicking all the same. 

This isn't your timeline.

> _I met him when the sun was down_  
>  _The bar was closed, we both have had no sleep_  
>  _My face beneath the streetlamp, it reveals what it is_  
>  _Lonely people seek_

 

You're taking deep breaths in through your nose as you hop once through the snow, raise a leg with more grace than you've ever possessed, and do a slow twirl, arm still extended. You bring the arm back to your chest, bend your knees, take a couple of more graceful hops through the snow toward him. 

You never learned ballet. Your parents never cared enough about pushing you toward any hobbies for you to take dance as a child. They couldn't have afforded the lessons, anyway. 

"Sans!" 

Well, at least your voice was still working. He was still watching you carefully, not saying a word. "Sans! What.. I can't.." Breathe in, breathe out. You try to slow down your shallow breaths, but you can't, and the cold Snowdin air burns your lungs.

> _And you're close enough to lose_  
>  _Close to the point where you know that your mind_  
>  _It cannot choose_

You're in another weird timeline. You know this much, so you try to calm yourself down with this knowledge. At least this Sans looks like your Sans, his eyelights carefully watching as you move through steps that _you can't possibly know how to do_ , yet you somehow pull off anyway. You know that your face still looks completely panicked, and you're desperately trying to move as close to him as possible, yet your dancing steps are leading you to skirt around the circle of light that encompasses him. 

If you could just grab his hand... If you could apologize...

Oh. Wait. Your voice still worked just fine. 

"Sans! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Your voice cracks with a desperation that betrays the calm tune of the song. It's not enough. You need to touch him, you need to grab onto his jacket, to drag him toward you and sob that apology against his skull. It'll never be enough; the words will never be enough.

"heh, i'm the one that should be apologizing, kiddo." Your SOUL stirs in your chest, wide eyes trying to lock with his even as your body forces you into a slow spin. You feel like a ballerina in a music box. 

"you know i don't dance."

> _Close enough to lose_  
>  _Close enough to lose your heart_

"I don't dance, either!" You realize that you almost sound hysterical, but you just want to stop. Your knees bend, and your hands fold over your chest as if cradling your heart, before extending them toward Sans. 

Well. Your dancing is making it completely obvious how you feel about him--or.. how you felt? After everything that's happened, your feelings are so jumbled--and you're practically dripping with _sin_ \--that you can barely pick them apart. Something must come across in your expression because Sans finally pushes away from that lamppost, his gaze staring even harder at you. 

"if you don't dance, then what's the _pointe_ of what you're doing now?" At least he still makes puns in this timeline, you thought, feeling relief wash over you. Maybe he really was your Sans, just trapped.. in a perpetual musical? If that was true, you weren't surprised that he didn't dance. He was too lazy to put that kind of effort into anything. 

> _And my heart was screamin' at my bones  
>  I need you closer_

Sans took a step toward you, and you willed your body to reach out, but the music abruptly ended. 

It was replaced instead by [a saucy tune that reminded you of something suited for a salsa](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HYZBULGd7CU). Or maybe a tango? You didn't really know the difference. 

"MY BROTHER MAY NOT DANCE, BUT FEAR NOT! THE GREAT PAPYRUS WOULD NEVER LEAVE YOU WITHOUT A PARTNER, HUMAN!"

The sound of his voice instantly makes your eyes glass over in a sheen of tears. Your head whips around just in time to see Papyrus coming down the snowy street, clad in black dress pants and a white button-up shirt with the first couple of buttons undone. There's a rose between his teeth, and the entire image makes a watery laugh escape you. Your hands fly to your face, covering your wide smile behind them. Papyrus looks absolutely dashing in his get-up, and his stance radiates his usual confidence when he gets close to you.

_I BELIEVE IN YOU._

You block out the thoughts before they get a proper chance to form. Sans is still staring at you, but he's stepped back to give you and Papyrus more space. "HUMAN! PREPARE YOURSELF TO DANCE WITH THE GREAT PAPYRUS! THERE'S NO ESCAPING MY ENTRANCING MOVES," he warns you with a joyous grin, and in the next moment, he does a sweeping bow with one arm across his midsection, and you find yourself curtseying somewhat in response. The music picks up in tempo, and he takes a step forward, then back, swiveling his hips, repeating the motions as he advances toward you, never once letting his gaze stray from yours. 

> _I'm gonna laugh, I'm gonna dance  
>  I'm gonna live my life._

 

When he is finally close enough, he takes your hands in both of his and draws you toward him, swinging your arms as he leads you forward a couple of steps, and then back. With each step, his hips turn, and your flared tutu brushes against him. 

"I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS DAY FOR SO LONG, HUMAN!"

Smoothly, he crosses one leg in front of the other, turning both of you in a circle through the snow, before releasing one of your arms to spin you outward, then draw you back. He resumes the step forward, step backward motion, his hand at your hip now. 

"THE DAY WHEN I MIGHT FINALLY BECOME A MEMBER OF THE ROYAL GUARD!"

> _I'm gonna laugh, I'm gonna enjoy  
>  and live my life._

He lets go of your waist, but keeps hold of your hand, turning both of you out so you're facing Sans, instead of each other momentarily. For that entire moment, your gaze locks with Sans's, and although his perma-grin is still in-place, it looks tighter than usual. The intensity of his stare causes you to shudder, but your body doesn't stop moving, matching every step that Papyrus leads you through. He steps forward, crossing one leg in front of the other, and then draws you into another spin that ends with you facing him again. 

You try to ignore the feeling of Sans's eyelights watching you in favor of saving the moment with Papyrus. The feeling of his bones against your palm, the sound of his excited voice--all of it soothes your SOUL. He's alive. He's alive, and he's dancing, and his moves are absolutely _killer_. The way he rolls and gyrates his hips have a sensuality that you wouldn't expect from someone you considered such a sweet cinnamon roll, but you have to admit, he pulls it off well. 

"I'LL GAIN EVERYTHING I'VE EVER WANTED! FRIENDS! POPULARITY! FAME!"

And even in this weird musical timeline, he's still wanting to become a member of the Royal Guard. 

For a moment, he releases you so you can do your own dance, instead of being lead by his. You take a half step away from him and pirouette along with the thrumming music. Your arms reach up high above your head, as if caressing the sky, before you twirl yourself in a stepped circle around Papyrus. Meanwhile, his arms move up and down at his sides, while he fluidly steps with the rhythm of his SOUL from side-to-side. There is a moment where he seems to be concentrating very hard when he looks at you, and his smile no longer quite matches his gaze. You feel an odd connection that had been forming with the dance, and with it, you can feel the hesitation that creeps into his SOUL. The odd pulse almost makes you fall out of rhythm, but your body moves on, until you're standing before him once more. 

"AND IT'S... ALL THANKS TO YOU.."

You do a slow pile, and hope your smile is encouraging, even though you're blinking back tears.

> _Why mourn? Why suffer?  
>  Start dreaming, start laughing_

"IS SOMETHING THE MATTER, HUMAN?" His expression is tender as he reaches for your hands, and you reach up immediately, lacing your fingers between his long phalanges. There's a moment where, through the sheen of your tears, he looks like the Papyrus of the last timeline, and you feel your chest tighten with a cutting pang. You've been losing your friends--and hell, your lovers--left and right thanks to the RESETs, but you need to pull yourself together. If you start mourning both the fact that you killed the sweet Papyrus who never stopped believing in you, and that you'll never see the honey-loving Papyrus again, you're bound to fall apart. 

The connection between you two seems to ripple, and you feel something wash over you that feels as comforting as an embrace. You shake your head, rapidly blinking back tears, and force your smile to stretch. "No.. No, I'm just happy that I can help you reach your dream, Papyrus. Whatever you need, I'll do, okay?"

He gives you a strange look for a moment before he nods. "I KNOW YOU WILL, HUMAN." He draws you closer and into a serious of spins. Once around, twice, three times, all while moving in a circle around you himself. With each spin, you can't help but notice Sans still staring at you, his blue hoodie standing out amongst the snow. Papyrus draws your attention back as he moves your joined hands from side to side again, falling back into that step forward, step back rhythm. "A PERSON LIKE YOU.. IS REALLY RARE." 

_No, I'm not. I'm a murderer, a liar, a selfish sinner._

Papyrus misses a step and something strange comes over his face. That connection feels chaotic for a moment, like the music suddenly went off-key, and you panic for a moment. There was something to this dancing, you realized, something that two people shared during the dance. Feelings? Probably. Thoughts? Oh, god, you hoped not. You couldn't hear any of his, so maybe your feelings had just come across rather dark at that moment.

_Shit, think happy thoughts. Like Fluffy Bunny._

> _Feel and dance and enjoy,  
>  You only live once_

He seems to calm and switches hands to pull you through a half-spin so that your back ends up against his chest. As he leans forward to find your gaze, his look is intense, bone brow furrowed. "AND IF I WERE TO GAIN POPULARITY.. WOULD ANY OF THEM LIKE ME.. AS SINCERELY AS YOU?" 

Changing position to have you facing him again, he keeps hold of one hand, while the other settles upon your waist. He guides you through the motions, but his SOUL is flickering with indecision. 

You squeeze his hand, and this time, you feel two tears slide down your cheeks when you blink. "Of course they'll like you. Who wouldn't? You're the sweetest person I've ever met, Papyrus." Your voice nearly breaks, and his eyesockets widen. His cheekbones actually start to tinge orange, which looks adorable. At this point, you'd do anything for Papyrus, anything to redeem yourself from what you--

_Don't think about it, don't think about it, don't_

He did another step-forward, step-back while expertly moving his pelvis and then pulls you back into him. While holding onto one hand, he slips the other around your upper back and pulls you against his chest. His spine bends, and he dips you low for a grand finale. 

> _Live, always keep looking forward  
>  Don't look back._

"...YOU.. YOU ARE RIGHT, HUMAN! WHEN SOMEONE IS AS GREAT AS I, OTHERS CAN'T HELP BUT LIKE THEM!" he announces, his SOUL calming with his decision. Slowly, he rights you and gingerly plucks the rose from between his teeth, handing it to you as he bows deeply in gratitude for the dance. 

"HOWEVER I'M NOT GOING TO CAPTURE YOU! THERE WILL BE OTHER HUMANS TO FALL DOWN HERE, ONES THAT AREN'T AS NICE AS YOU, AND I SHALL CAPTURE THEM! BUT... INSTEAD, I WOULD LIKE TO EXTEND MY HAND IN FRIENDSHIP! AND I KNOW YOU'LL BE HONORED TO HAVE A FRIEND AS COOL AS ME!"

He stands up straight, 'Nyeh heh heh'ing' in glee, and you can't help the tears that slide down your cheeks anew. The music has stopped completely, severing the connection you had felt to his feelings, and now your body is freed to move on its own. You throw yourself against Papyrus, clinging to his waist, your face buried in his chest. He's caught off-guard, but he slowly pets your hair with one hand, the other wrapping around your frame. 

"F..FLIRTING? IS THAT WHAT'S HAPPENING NOW?! HUMAN, YOU MAY HAVE SOME OF THE BEST DANCE MOVES OF THE UNDERGROUND--ASIDE FROM MYSELF, OF COURSE--BUT I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT I'M A SKELETON OF HIGH STANDARDS!"

You laugh, your entire body shaking as you do. When you manage to tilt your head up, you notice his cheeks are a much darker orange now, and he's looking away. There's an _ah, fuck it_ part of you that wants to goad him into a date just to see how it would differ in this timeline, but you're pulled away from those thoughts as you hear the snow crunching from the side. Sans has approached, and when you look over to him, you find that his smile is tight in spite of his relaxed composure. 

"Of course I'll be your friend, Papyrus. I'd love nothing more," you say instead, which only makes his blush increase. You pull back from his hug, wiping you eyes on the back of your sleeve. 

Before Papyrus can further comment, however, Sans cuts him off. "paps, you could cook some of your infamous spaghetti for the occasion."

You whirl toward him, beyond surprised that he'd actually suggest the spaghetti.. unless this dancer Papyrus was a good cook? Somehow, you doubted that was true. However, Papyrus lit up at the suggestion. "THAT'S A GREAT IDEA, SANS! I HAVE SOME SILKEN SPAGHETTI I'VE BEEN SAVING FOR SOMETHING SPECIAL! I'LL GO PREPARE IT! HUMAN!" He pointed dramatically at you, his cheekbones flaring orange again. "YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO RESIST SPAGHETTI AGED IN AN OAKEN CASK!" 

"I'm sure it'll taste.. indescribable." Your smile brightens, and Papyrus vigorously nods. 

"PREPARE YOUR TASTE BUDS! I'LL CALL YOU WHEN IT'S READY!"

"But you don't have--" Your voice trails as he dashes back to his Snowdin home. Oh well. He found your number time and time before by calling every number until you answered, so you figured he could do it again. But with Papyrus now gone, that left you suddenly alone with Sans. Without the music, you should have been thrilled to finally get a chance to talk to him, but instead... you felt beyond nervous. This Sans wasn't your Sans, so what should you even say? 

Sans speaks first. "come with me for a bit, kid." And then, he starts walking toward Waterfall with his hands shoved in his pockets and his pace an unhurried meander. The way he had been looking at you had you nervous, and you found yourself crossing your arms over your chest, covering your SOUL. Still, you follow after him, trailing behind, racking your brain for everything you wanted to say. Should you continue to apologize for something he didn't know you did--something you didn't do to _him_ , but another version of him? But.. he looks and acts just like your Sans, so the weird musical thing that seems to be prevalent here aside, is he the same Sans? 

"I'm sorry." The words quietly tumble past your lips before you can stop them. They don't even have context; there's no way for him to know what you're apologizing for. But, the apology has been clawing at you all this time, through this endless loop of selfishness, and you have to let it out. 

Sans doesn't stop walking, and beyond a soft grunt, doesn't acknowledge that you even spoke. You find your nervousness spreading, but once he finds a dark area of Waterfall, he stops. As he turns around, he pops up his hood, which shrouds his expression in even more shadow. There's a few glowing mushrooms nearby that cast an eerie cyan glow across him.. and you distantly realize that your body is trembling.

"welp. wanna dance or what?" 

He bows and extends a hand toward you. You stare at it as if searching for a whoopee cushion or some kind of trick. 

"I thought you said you didn't dance."

"i thought you said you didn't, either," he counters with a shrug. 

In another life, the idea of dancing with Sans would have sent you over the moon. You could still remember a time when you tried to convince him to come to prom with you. Even then, he claimed he didn't dance and brushed you aside, opting instead to stretch out on the couch and lazily channel surf through garbage daytime TV. He told you to find someone at your school that liked dancing, and you'd have more fun that way. 

You ended up going with a Pyrope, and in a strange twist, he ended up being the hottest dancer there. So hot, in fact, that you could barely get a turn with him, and when you finally did, you couldn't handle the heat. It made your hair unmanageable, and you spent the evening alternating between the punch bowl and assuring Monster Kid (who had his own date), that you were having a blast. 

That night, Papyrus had been the one to dance with you in their living room, while Sans tapped his slipper along with the beat and watched. You never did get the chance to dance with him.

Until... now.

"Okay. Sure," you murmur, giving into another selfish whim. You take his hand, and immediately, music was heard clearly over the gentle rush of the river. While you curtsy, he kicks a leg out behind him and bows deep, his teeth nearly grazing the back of your hand, but not quite. When he straightens, Sans shakes out his joints and smoothly rolls his arm and wrist as he shifted his leg. His sneakers glided smoothly across the cavern's floor, demonstrating a grace that betrayed his lazy nature. 

With every step he takes, the unique foliage beneath his feet illuminates, causing him to leave a trail of fading, phantom steps behind him, marking his path. Each step is deliberate, moving with the beat, and you are pulled along with him, rising onto your toes as you follow his steps. Your hand tightens on his, and you feel your SOUL soar. It feels so good to touch him, to know that he's real. You haven't seen this version of Sans since you were forced to take a backseat ride in your own body, and just moving along with him is enough to make you want to apologize again, to beg him for forgiveness.

You manage to swallow the words somehow.

The strange connection that occurs during the dance was there, just as it had been with Papyrus. Perhaps assenting to the dance was all that was needed for it to form? You were unsure, but you could feel a difference, like something washing over you, though carefully controlled. While you had been dancing with Papyrus, you could feel his elation, his excitement, his indecision over turning you over to Undyne.. but, with Sans...

You could feel his presence, but not his feelings. It was as if he had them behind a careful wall or shoved away in a box. 

As the song reaches a crescendo, Sans yanks you forward by your arm so you collide against his chest, and your free hand rests upon his sternum. He entwines your fingers together to give your hand a quick squeeze, and then raises that arm above your head so he can reverse your positions and bring himself around to your back. He slides his other hand along your other arm, up your shoulder, where his phalanges ghost the edge of your neck. 

The feeling of his bones against your skin are enough to set your flesh on fire, despite everything. You still want him; the feelings are still there, even if you're unworthy of having them. You have already slept with his red-eyed counterpart (the thought of which caused your chest to tighten; losing him had been nearly as difficult as losing your timeline's Sans) and then blown his Papyrus counterpart, so of course you'd still want his dancing counterpart, too. 

When you fall so far down, you begin grasping at any rope you can find. 

And if that rope happens to be a form of the person you love the most, then of course you're going to hold on until it decides to hang you. 

His grip tightens on your neck as if in accordance with your thoughts, and for a moment, you feel panic surge through you. _He can't read your mind. You're being paranoid_ , you try to tell yourself, but that doesn't stop you from gulping hard. His hand disappears, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

Sans dips you back against his chest, then leans forward, using your joined hands to spin you out and away from him. At the same time, he steps backward, reluctantly allowing your tether to break. If it's anything like the Papyrus dance, this is your opportunity to showcase your own dance steps, while incorporating his style--which seems to be similar to hip hop. 

You bring one leg back, arms coming down to either side, and slowly come back up and on your toes with your hands raised above your head. Your steps toward him are slow and deliberate, and you never lose your form as you twirl around him to face his back. Your hands come to rest on his shoulders, and you use him like a ballet bar, bending at the knees in a plie, before slowly rolling your body back up against him. You hear him suck in a sharp breath, and you feel something stir in the connection the dance brings, but you can't decipher the feeling exactly. It's possible that you're projecting your own feelings onto his, but you set that notion aside. Your hands creep around his midsection, towards his rib cage, and you step lightly to his side, bringing your knee up to rest against the crest of his hip as you balance yourself on your toes, your weight resting against him. 

You can't help but smirk. It may have started where you didn't feel like you had control over your body, but now, you feel as if you are in complete control. The only weird thing is knowing how to actually dance, like the moves are just second-nature. 

Sans turns toward you, smoothly in beat with the music, and his fingers hook beneath the bend of your knee, tugging it up and over the curve of his hip in one fluid motion. You sharply gasp as your pelvis collides with his, and your hands slide inside his jacket, trying to find purchase on one of his ribs through his T-shirt. He inhales sharply through his nasal cavity, and one hand touches your side, while the other skims up to your thigh. Instead of leggings, you belatedly realize you're wearing dance shorts beneath your tutu, and you feel your breathing hitch as his phalanges grip your thigh, just beneath the hem of those shorts. Sans leans you back, his opposite hand moving up your side, around your back, up through your hair, and then back down to the curve of your waist. The movement is precise, gentle, following the motions of the song. His perma-grin suddenly widens into a smirk and he rolls his body against yours to the beat, his pelvis grinding against yours with the motion. His fingers tighten almost painfully on your thigh, and you find yourself wanting to stay in this moment forever.

It was almost funny how you never ceased to assuage your guilt by sinning even more. But this--this was all you had ever wanted. To be seen as a woman, and not a little kid, to be _desired_ by the one you loved the most, the one that had pulled you from a dark and boring existence, one that was terrible enough that you had fallen in the first place.

So, of course you were going to give in. 

Sans lifts you so that your other leg is off the ground, spins halfway, and then dips you back again from the opposite side. It is a quicker dip, in time with the music, and this time when he rights himself, he ghosts his fingers down your thigh before finally releasing your leg. You stand up straight, even if your knees feel like jello, though one hand remains clutching his ribs, while the other comes out to move along with the music. The tempo increases again, and Sans starts moving his body in the steps, but this time, he keeps his hand on your waist as he moves. It periodically slides between the crest of your hip and the indent of your waist, and all the while, he steadily holds your gaze. 

The music starts to fade out, the last dregs of the song coming. As much as you didn't want it to end, you press you body against his as he dips you backward a final time, lining your hips up perfectly. One hand cups his skull, your lips barely an inch away from his mouth, and you're certain he can feel your labored breathing fanning hot against his teeth. From beneath the hood, you realize you can't see his expression from this angle; the luminescent foliage and mushrooms are casting a faint glow on his clothing and hood, but not his features. 

Your fingers trace the curve of his zygomatic arch, before hooking around it, trying to pull him closer, to close that last inch of space. You're practically on fire from how badly you're craving his touch.

"you honestly think i didn't know, kid?" 

The suddenness of his low, baritone voice startles you into jumping, but his hold on you tightens, keeping you in place. He slowly lifts his head, and you discover that his eyesockets are hollow pits, making his smile look utterly terrifying. When he speaks again, his voice comes out an octave lower than usual and causes you to freeze.

" **you dirty brother killer .** " 

A split-second later, his left eyesocket illuminates a vibrant blue that chills you to the bone. On instinct, you attempt to push against his chest and break away, but you can't move. There's the now-familiar feeling of everything shifting--of taking a shortcut--and then you're suddenly in a place straight from your nightmares.

"No. No, no, Sans, _please_." You voice breaks, and suddenly, all the warmth from his bones is gone. You pitch forward, losing your balance, and land on your hands and knees. The floor is polished so well that you can see your reflection staring back at you, your hair messed up from his phalanges, and your panicked eyes rapidly filling with tears. When you look up, he's standing a couple of pillar lengths from you, his hood still pulled up over his skull, and his hands nonchalantly shoved into his pockets. 

He'd taken you to the Judgement Hall, where he was the judge, jury, and executioner.

[A song starts](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WJgt6m6njVw), keeping the weird connection between the two of you going. 

"i knew something was off when i saw paps stumble through his steps. he never misses a beat, so you must have been thinking some pretty horrible things, huh?" 

"Let me explain, Sans--"

He cuts you off. "like thinking about how you killed him while you're dancing with him? wow. you're really a freak, aren't you?"

You're openly crying now; you can barely remember how to breathe. "I didn't. I didn't kill him. He's still alive. You just saw him."

"in this timeline, sure. you must think i'm pretty stupid, huh?" 

His smile is tight and dangerous. You deserve anything that he dishes out. You deserve him to kill you, over and over again. But, you didn't SAVE; you didn't have a chance to feel DETERMINED. No, you were too busy feeling horny instead. If he kills you here, you'll lose your chance to speak. 

But how does he know? This isn't the same timeline.

"Okay. Okay, but it wasn't _me_ that did it, Sans. I would never.."

"but you did, right? you're the anomaly. did you really think you could just kill him, and i'd forget about it?" 

Is he your Sans? Does he remember what else you've done? Or.. 

".. Is that why you wanted to dance with me? This connection the music makes?"

Sans shrugs lightly. "you were radiating guilt from the moment you started dancing. i wanted to know why. you've, uh.. got a lot of guilt, among other things." 

You feel your sins crawling on your back.

You bite your lip, sitting up on your knees and bunching up the stupid pink tutu in your hands. He was talking about the desire you had for him, of course, and that was humiliating on top of everything else you were feeling. He takes a couple of steps forward, and two large Blasters materialize behind him, their eyes glowing the same vibrant shade of blue as his. 

You can vividly remember what it felt like to be incinerated by one of them, to have your flesh melt the split-second before your SOUL splits. 

Sans pauses mid-stride, his bone brows furrowing. "geez, buddy. if we've been through this song and dance-- _heh_ \--before, then why'd you agree to the dance at all?"

Your shoulders are shaking uncontrollably. You decide to be honest. "Because I'm s-selfish.. I.. just w-wanted to dance with you. That's all." You clamp a hand over your mouth to muffle a childish wail, and Sans stares hard, obviously trying to read your SOUL through the connection. You know it has to be all over the place, but at least he'll be able to tell your answer is sincere. 

"ok.." His voice trails, but the Blasters don't dissipate. They're weaving and bobbing with the music, dancing on their own accord, coming around to circle you from behind the pillars. You're not scared of them, though. "why'd you.. do what you did to my bro, then?" He stare hardens. By now, he's standing directly in front of you, watching you sob on the floor.

You just can't pull yourself together.

"I..I didn't want to. Something was wrong with me, s-something I couldn't control. I couldn't stop. And it all happened because.. because I'm so selfish, and you're right. I really am a freak." You let out a watery laugh, still shaking, as you look up at him. Here comes the moment of truth. "I RESET the timeline. I did. We were all on the Surface, but without a-all this weird musical stuff. And I promised you I wouldn't RESET, but I.. I did, and then.." You take in another shaky breath and exhale on the crest of a sob. "Everyone died."

Bones start to materialize behind him, popping into reality with the beat of the drums in the song.

"I broke my promise, and I can't seem to make it right. I can't fix anything. And I'm sorry, Sans. I'm so sorry." You were practically wailing the words, forcing them out through your break-down. 

Sans is quiet for a moment, his eyesockets closed, but the weapons still there. When he reopens them, he chuckles lightly. "i've got a piece of advice for you, kid. if we were ever friends, and you want to continue to be friends, don't tell the other sanses all this. it'd break their hearts." 

You can only stare, uncomprehending. "What--?"

"i mean, it's not something i can overlook. so, in the future, might want to keep that to yourself, pal." 

"You're saying I should--"

Again, he cuts you off and continues talking. "but hey, at least you and i have something in common." His hands move from his pockets, lifting up by his shoulders as he shrugs.

He seems to be waiting on you to speak again, so you finally blurt, "What's that?"

"neither of us can keep a promise." 

And then he winks, and you feel something sharp pierce your chest. Your SOUL, that red little heart, is impaled on the end of it, and you stare as it cracks apart. You're unable to lift your gaze from it, but at least the pain of the bone through the body disappeared the second your SOUL became dislodged.

"I'm.. sor...ry...S-Sans..."

The world begins to crumble away to that black screen of limbo.

"me too, kid." 

 

###### 

**[RESET]**

It's the only option you have, and the button it still glitched. Almost half of it is static or inverted, and pieces appear as if they've been torn off and then taped back on haphazardly. You curl up and take a moment to gather yourself. It's not as if you could have stayed there, anyway. In a world where monsters could feel what was going on with you through your SOUL, you would have been screwed sooner or later. Someone would have been able to sense your trepidation, your misery, your sins. It was only a matter of time.

At least now, you got to admit some of those sins to Sans--well, to a Sans that was close to the one you had betrayed. And he had given you the helpful advice that you should bury those sins and keep them to yourself.

Well, you didn't have to be told _that_ twice.

You just had to find a way to fix it somehow, to find your timeline and get them back to the Surface. Eventually, that had to happen; there _had_ to be a way to atone for your sins. But, all of this timeline hopping was starting to worry you at the same time. The **RESET** button floating before you was looking worse and worse, and you were concerned that using it too many times would break it.. or maybe even send you into some completely different timeline where you might end up stuck. 

Or dead for good. Surely, there was only so many times that you could cheat death. But if the **RESET** button broke, would you actually die, or would you be stuck in this limbo forever?

That thought horrified you, sending a ripple of panic in your chest that almost set off an anxiety attack. No, you had to pull yourself together. You needed to look at the positives. You got to dance with both Papyrus and Sans, and you got to formally apologize for your selfishness to his face. You should be feeling relieved, DETERMINED--something other than this emptiness that was gnawing at your chest, hollowing it out. 

It was time to move on. The time to mourn thing you couldn't change was over. You breathed in deep, breathed out, and then shook your body out. Finally, a spark of DETERMINATION flared, and you slammed your palm against the button. The darkness of the in-between faded, replaced by the bright light that shone from the button.

And suddenly, you were lying on something soft, and it was like someone had turned on the lights while you were sleeping. Groaning, you cover your eyes with your hand and draw your knee up. You realize immediately that your clothes are different again, and you peek from beneath your palm to find you are now clad in a form-fitting crimson dress that goes all the way down to your ankles. 

Shit, where were you now?

"well, well... what do we have here?" 

The voice is familiar, a little gruff, but deep enough that you could place it anywhere. Your hands drop from your face, and your surprised expression morphs into a bright smile. You sit up on the couch you had been sprawled across, trying to make sure your heels don't snag on your elegant dress. 

He adjusts his tie as he slowly meanders around the couch. The suspenders and vest make you think that he had been wearing a three-piece suit at one point that day, but the sleeves of his dress shirt are pushed up his forearms, exposing smooth bone. There's a fedora on his skull that he somehow pulls off as perfectly as he pulls off the dress clothes, and you realize just how much better it looks than his other attire. 

_Just bury your sins and move on. Take his advice._

"it ain't every day a human decides to break in. your kind in particular is usually scared of us." 

There's a holster on his back, and you glimpse the sight of a polished gun hanging from it. Even so, you're not afraid of him. Not even a little bit. 

No, your hands are trembling for an entirely different reason. One that has you stepping forward to raise your hands and place them against his chest. Your fingers slide along his silk tie, tracing the edge of it, while his eyelights follow the motion. You're not going to cry anymore, or freak out, or drown your sins in alcohol. 

"I'm not scared of you in the slightest," you admit, your voice steady as your fingers wrap around the tie. 

He chuckles, lifting a hand to your cheek, his palm skimming your skin as his phalanges thread into your hair. Crimson eyelights lock with yours, and when his smile stretches, his sharp golden tooth glints. 

"you should be, sweetheart." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh shit, it's not Mobtale; it's _Mobfell!_
> 
> I couldn't resist; I just love Red so much that he ended up being the Sans that shows up here. Let's face it; Fell!Sans in a red button up dress shirt, black vest, and crimson tie is just plain hawt. This also means that we get a sharp-dressed Edgy Paps on the scene. 
> 
> So this took me a while honestly because I've been roleplaying so much Undertale lately. Hell, most of the Papyrus dance scene up there came from a Dancetale rp I did recently (where I was Paps) to try to figure out how to write Dancetale for this. I watched so many dance videos in preparation.
> 
> That said, if any of you are interested in roleplaying (pssst, I'm also a fontcest sinner), or just want to talk Undertale or prod me into updating in a timely manner, I'm happy to give you my skype. I really need to learn how to tumblr lol.


	7. * You're mine, sweetheart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You end up in a timeline where the red-eyed Sans appears to be in some sort of monster mafia on the Surface.  
> Turns out, he's rough and possessive, and you're into that. 
> 
> *You end up going to a celebration with Sans, and the two of you have a celebration of your own afterward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Smut warning.**  
>  But seriously, what did you expect from this trash fic? 
> 
> Enjoy some Mob!Red~.

You really should have known that if there were different versions of your timeline's Sans, then there would be different versions of _those_ versions of Sans.. right? Who was to say that your Sans was the original in what seems to be an insane amount of alternate timelines? 

But thinking too hard into it only confuses you, and you'd be a fool to ponder the complexities of the multiverse while your hand is gripping the crimson tie of _this_ Sans. 

He looks exactly the same as the Sans that's haunted your dreams the last couple of nights. His eyelights are still just as vibrantly red, focused completely on you, and his smirk is still as sharp as you remember. It feels like both an eternity and an instant since you were standing in front of him, but you feel like a completely different person from you were then. You're even more of a sinner now, sure, but if you could go back, you wouldn't have **RESET** so easily. You wouldn't have been so eager to try to make your way back to your own timeline. You might have even stayed and tried to help this Sans and Papyrus work things out.

 _This_ Sans? No, this wasn't the same one that you slept with. This one was dressed too sharp, and he carried a _gun_. There was only one gun you'd seen in the Underground, and it had been a simple revolver, not this. 

You realize he's watching you carefully, though you can't tell what he's thinking from his expression. Your hand tightens on his tie, pulling him closer to you, forcing his torso to lean forward. His eyelights burn brighter, and you remember how ~~he~~ that other red-eyed Sans seemed to enjoy having you tug on his collar.

"just what're ya doin' there, sweetheart?" His voice is low, but as rough as gravel. One of his hands lifts to touch the curve of your hip through the silken, form-hugging dress you're wearing. Even that simple of a touch sets you on fire. You can vividly remember the way he had wound the chain around your wrists, the way his tongue had languidly explored your body, probing at your most sensitive areas. 

You had just been killed by a dancing version of your Sans.. if by _your Sans_ you mean the Sans that chose Toriel over you, the one you would've ended up calling _dad_. 

But this version of Sans had been your first. He'd seen you as a woman, not a kid. He'd called you _his_. 

"Making up for lost time," you murmur in response, and then you pull sharply on his tie, closing the last bit of space between his mouth and your lips. 

Instantly, he responds. Sans works his mouth against your lips, but the kiss is anything but gentle. His sharp teeth are probing, biting into your soft lips even as his tongue manifests to completely dominate yours. The hand on your hip tightens to drag your pelvis flush against his, and in an instant, he's backing you back to the couch. As soon as your legs hit it, he knocks you off-balance and tumbles right on top of you, his free hand bracing his weight on a couch cushion. You're halfway on the couch, halfway off, and your legs are tangled in your dress, yet you're clinging to him in complete desperation. 

_What about Papyrus?_

Fuck your conscience. You weren't about to let your guilt take control this time. No, you were done crying; you were done feeling like shit. You had made mistakes--terrible, selfish mistakes--but wallowing in them wasn't going to fix anything. 

And so what if you continued to be selfish for a bit longer? 

You bite his tongue harder than intended, and Sans sucks in a ragged breath through his nasal cavity. He's lost his hat somewhere between the kiss and the couch, and as your hand glides over his skull, you feel a new crack in the back that you nearly stick your finger in. You pass over it in favor of wracking your fingernails hard along the back of his neck, drawing a shudder from him that has him sucking on your tongue while his hand closes over your breast. Your dress is low-cut enough that when he decides he needs more than just a feel over the clothes, it's easy for him to just slide his hand inside your dress and beneath your bra. You gasp at the feeling of his rough palm scraping against your nipple, and you find your hips coming off the couch cushions in desperation.

He breaks the kiss to look down at your expression, his eyelights tiny in their sockets, yet so bright, like miniature flames. His thumb rolls over your nipple, and you inhale sharply, your fingernails clawing at the vertebra of his neck. "heh, it's strange, isn't it?"

Your head is fuzzy, and you can barely process his words. Strange? The only thing strange here is that he isn't plowing you into the couch.

His signature smirk actually changes to a look of surprise, and he starts chuckling, his thumb and index finger pinching your nipple. It draws a moan from you, but your face is suddenly bright red.

Shit, you said that out loud. And you weren't even drunk this time! 

Well, unless you count drunk on lust.

"'course i'm goin' to do that, sweetheart. goes without sayin'. but, isn't it strange how you seem to know exactly what i like?"

His smirk is back in place, and you remove your arm from his neck.. only to untuck his shirt and shove the fabric aside so you could grab his ribs. While you circled your fingers around one of his floaters and pumped your palm along it, you found yourself smirking back. "Do I?"

"mhmm." He grunts, then pants when you squeeze the rib. His pelvis grinds hard against yours, and you can feel his boner through his pants. His head drops to your neck, where he bites down on the juncture of your neck and shoulder. His sharp teeth probably break the skin, but when he rolls his tongue across the spot and you feel that familiar buzz of magic, you don't feel any pain.. just pure pleasure, enough to make you writhe beneath him and practically dry hump his thigh. "but i also know what drives ya crazy."

Man, did he ever. You're positively burning, and every part of you just wants to beg him to tear the dress right off your body and fuck every terrible thought you've ever had right out of you. 

"don't i?" His teeth trail over your neck, across your jaw, nipping and licking. He grabs a fistful of hair and jerks your head back, and you grab his tie so hard that if he actually needed to breathe, you'd be strangling him.

"O-oh, yeah. You do, you certainly do."

Sans hums, pulling back to look you in the eyes. His grip tightens in your hair, and while it should be painful under any other circumstances, you're so unbelievably turned on by his domineering presence that you like it. "so it's almost as if..." His pelvis rocks against yours, pinning you to the couch, and you realize you were still trying to rock against his thigh. Whoops. "...we've done this before."

You freeze suddenly, your grip going lax on his tie. He couldn't mean..? 

Unable to find a way to phrase that question without looking like a lunatic, you default to staring up at him wide-eyed, waiting for him to elaborate. He doesn't appear inclined to any time soon, however, instead just searching your gaze, his smirk widening. 

"Uh..."

Well, aren't you just loquacious. 

Before you're forced to tip your hand, however, a door suddenly slams open so hard that it crashes against a wall. Sans jumps off you like he's on fire, and you straighten your dress and flounder a bit, trying to sit up. 

"WHAT IS ALL THE RACKET DOWN HERE, SANS?!" From the gruff voice that had a certain quality someone could only achieve after a lifetime of screaming, you knew it had to be the Papyrus that had become the Royal Guard Captain. The tall skeleton stalks downstairs just as Sans is picking up his discarded hat, and his hollow sockets seem to survey the scene. Sans's shirt is still halfway untucked, with one of the bottom buttons undone, while he's standing guiltily in front of the couch. You're still sprawled out across said couch, propped up on your elbows with your hair a complete mess. 

"uh, h-hey, boss. thought you'd already left."

If you thought Sans was sharply-dressed, Papyrus was downright flashy. He was wearing a full, black-and-red pinstriped suit. Gold studs were embedded in his black gloves, and his shoes were polished to perfection. He, too, was wearing a black fedora, and his face was still all sharp angles and defined cheekbones. A skull-and-crossbone belt completed his look. 

Well, that and a scowl. But it seemed like he was always wearing that from what you could remember. 

"I WAS STILL GETTING READY, AS I EXPECTED YOU TO BE. INSTEAD YOU'RE.. CANOODLING WITH A _HUMAN_ GIRL. IN. OUR. HOME." He punctuates each word with a menacing step toward Sans, who appears to be sweating. "WHO IS SHE? ANOTHER ONE OF YOUR WHORES?"

...Another one?

"n-no! she's my.. my date," Sans lies while sweating bullets, and you find yourself blinking, unsure what to say to make this better. You settle with smoothing down your hair and pushing yourself to your feet. Papyrus's gaze is critical. 

"DATE? YOU'RE BRINGING A HUMAN WITH YOU?" 

Your smile is nervous. "I hope that's not a problem?" 

He actually smiles, that devil. "OF COURSE NOT, IF YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH. HMPH, I SHOULD HAVE EXPECTED THIS FROM YOU, SANS. YOU ALWAYS HAVE HAD A DISGUSTING FASCINATION WITH HUMAN WOMEN." 

Neither of you say anything, though Sans shifts nervously. You're unsure why the idea of this Sans with other humans makes your chest feel so tight. You threw yourself at the hoodie-clad Papyrus, and then you practically ground yourself against dancer-Sans. If he has a human fasciation, then you most certainly have a skeleton fascination. Or a Sans fascination? Whatever--the point is that you have no room to feel upset. 

And yet you do because you're _that_ selfish.

Papyrus makes no move to leave, so Sans finally sighs and starts walking away. You start after him, but he waves you off. "lemme grab my jacket, and we can go."

Go? Go where?

You can't ask that with Papyrus standing right there, so you nervously smile up at him while he scowls disapprovingly.

_Please don't kill me._

This is going to be a long night.

###### 

The moment Sans saw you, he felt something stir in his SOUL. 

It couldn't be, though. It had to just be his mind playing tricks on him again. He probably shouldn't have knocked back that mustard-and-vodka shot while he was getting ready for the stupid party. It wasn't like he didn't want to go; no, there would be plenty of alcohol and women flowing freely there, and as a member of the Skeleton Family, he was guaranteed unlimited access to both. But, he also didn't want to listen to all the talking, all the bashing of humanity. 

Even if it had been exactly twenty years since the barrier broke and the monsters rose from the Underground with a murderous intent for revenge. 

Things snowballed after that. Monsters took over human cities, driving them out or straight-up murdering them, until there was nearly a second Great War. Humans had weapons, and they were still strong, even though the monsters gained LOVE fairly quickly and became able to withstand most of their attacks, no matter how much ill-intent they put behind them. As monsters spread, they broke into mob factions to control areas, and they even took up some of the human weapons just to turn them on the humans and see how they liked it. There was a treaty of sorts that broke out between the two races once the bloodlust subsided, though in monster-controlled districts, humans were still second-class citizens. And distrust between the two species was the biggest issue of them all.

It wasn't uncommon to see human prostitutes in monster districts. Humans were considered exotic to monsters, still, although it also wasn't uncommon to see humans drawn to monsters outside of getting paid as well. Humans could be just as kinky as monsters, and since Sans--thanks to his brother's former position as the Captain of the Royal Guard--was part of the mafia family second only under the Dreemurs, he had plenty of human women approach him. Money, power, novelty--they all were willing to endure his company for one reason or another.

After the first time he gave in and fucked a human that wouldn't stop stroking his jaw and asking him if skeletons had dicks, he had found it much easier to forget his apathetic attitude when he was busy pressed against soft, yielding skin. 

And he also found it so much easier to remember, too.

His mind always carried him back to that night, a lifetime ago, when he pressed a human girl to his mattress and felt his very SOUL scream at him to take her, that she was _his_ , that she belonged to _him_ , not.. not...

He exhaled a shaky breath and pulled on his suit jacket.. before realizing his shirt and vest were still untucked and messy. Fixing his appearance, he cursed under his breath when his hands started shaking. This was stupid, he was being stupid. He was remembering wrong again; how many times did he have to put himself through this?

_*but i'm sure this time._

Was he really, though? He'd been so sure the last few times he found himself breaking off from a job to go chasing a poor human woman down an alleyway. He must have looked every bit of a monster when he finally whirled them around, only to realize he'd been seeing things that he wanted to see, instead of the truth. 

That girl was gone. She wasn't coming back, and even if he could somehow find her again, almost thirty years had passed. Humans aged differently; she wouldn't even look the same. 

Straightening his hat, he went back downstairs to find his brother with his arms crossed, tapping his foot impatiently and looking even more on-edge than usual. Probably due to the human. Papyrus never did trust humans, and he killed his fair share when the barrier first broke. He loathed the fact that Sans had taken to sleeping with humans and repeatedly told him to take that shit to a hotel, rather than taint their home. 

"WELL? ARE YOU FINALLY READY?" Papyrus snaps, and Sans nods, his eyelights shifting back to you. 

"let's get this show on the _road_."

"I FEEL LIKE THAT WAS A WEAK ATTEMPT AT A JOKE," Papyrus snapped, but proceeded to stalk out of the room anyway. Sans extended his arm to you, and you loop your arm through his while he leads you out the door. 

"Where are we going?" you ask, while Sans shrugs a little. 

"just a celebration thing. but, uh, listen. keep your head down and stay close to me, ok?" His warning seems to make you shiver slightly, but once he has you outside the door, you gasp and stop, your eyes on the sky. 

_The sky. Complete with stars!_

"We're on the Surface," you whisper, a giant grin spread across your face. Sans glimpses tears gathering in your eyes, making them glisten in the night, and he's taken back. His SOUL stirs again.

"yeah, where else would we be?" His question is weighted, even though it comes out with a light chuckle. You turn to look at him, blinking back tears, looking so happy that he feels his chest clench tight.

That girl from thirty years ago, the one that he found outside of the Ruins, one that was apparently a time traveler...

He knew then, without a doubt, that he was right this time. His mind wasn't playing tricks on him, and he wasn't just fantasizing about that girl while looking at another human.

No, you're her. _You're_ the girl that he claimed in another timeline, in another life, before everything looped again. After that loop, you never came out of the Ruins.. and everyone _except him_ forgot they ever saw you. 

And he never got over it.

Sans squeezes your arm, staring at you with a look you can't place, and his mouth opens.. but Papyrus interrupts with "GET YOUR LAZY ASS IN THE CAR BEFORE I LEAVE YOU!" Sans breathes in deep and leads you toward Papyrus's sleek black convertible, and the two of you pile into the backseat. The door barely has time to close before Papyrus is barreling down the street in a screech of tires.

You're gathered up against Sans in the next moment. He's halfway turned toward you on the seat, and he's got both arms tight around you, his face buried in the side of your neck. You can't tell what's going on in his head, but you can feel a slight tremble to his bones.. or maybe that's just from the car? You hold onto his arms, but your head is tipped back, looking at the sight of the buildings as they zoom past with Papyrus's reckless driving. 

The monsters are on the Surface. The barrier has been broken! In this timeline, everything's like it's supposed to be. They didn't even need your help to get free, so some other poor soul must have fallen in to be the final one needed. You're deliriously giddy that you got to witness a Happy Ending in an alternate timeline. You don't recognize anything yet, but Papyrus isn't adhering to any driving laws, so you don't really get the chance to sight-see. 

"sweetheart..." Sans's mouth is at your ear. You're still wearing a stupid grin. His arms tighten around you, and you meet Papyrus's gaze from the rearview mirror to find him looking more annoyed than before. Well, at least he hasn't killed you, so you suppose that's progress.

"Sans.. everything all right?" you finally murmur back to the skeleton clinging to you. His tongue suddenly trails along your neck, and your face turns red as you try to hide a reaction from Papyrus. 

"everything's great," he mutters, nuzzling into you contentedly. You leave it at that as the car comes to an abrupt stop in front of what appears to be some sort of massive party taking up the square. Monsters are everywhere, holding cups in their hands and grinning with sharp teeth. There's a good deal of them dressed as sharply as the skelebros, though some are more casual, and some appear to already be plastered. Music is loud, there's dancing going on, and stalls of food lining the area. 

"Woah." Yeah, you're impressed. You finally disentangle yourself from Sans to get out of the car, and you marvel at the sight of so many excited monsters. Sans grabs your arm and jerks you back toward him, and you remember his warning about staying close. Now that you're thinking about it, you don't see any other humans around, and you're getting quite a few looks from the monsters that noticed the car fly into that parking space. 

"I'M GOING ON AHEAD," Papyrus says with a tone of disgust as he glances down at you. "YOU'RE MAKING A SCENE WITH THAT HUMAN BITCH, AND I REFUSE TO HAVE THE SIGHT OF HER TAKE AWAY FROM THE SIGHT OF MY TERRIBLE GREATNESS!" 

"ok, catch you in a bit, boss."

"OH, AND SANS? STAY OUT OF TROUBLE! GOT IT?" Papyrus fixes his brother a level look.

"s-sure thing, boss!"

"GOOD." Semi-satisfied, Papyrus takes his leave, and Sans repositions his grip on you to lace his fingers with yours. It feels nice, and you lean against his arm. Now that his brother's gone, you can finally get some answers.

"What's the party for?" 

"twenty years on the surface." Your eyes boggle. _Twenty_ years?! Sans chuckles.  "but you should know that, right?"

You immediately realize your mistake. Every human should know that, and you're sure this date has some definitive title like Freedom Day or Surface Day if Asgore is still as bad at naming things as you remember. 

You randomly showed up on his couch, and yet here you are, at a monster party with Sans. Either he's realized something's up, or he really does have a human fetish and just decided to roll with it so he can fuck you later. You decide to play it safe. "O-oh, yeah, was that today?" Your voice comes out an octave higher than it should have, and you mentally wince. His grin widens. 

"sweetheart, can we cut the bullshit?" Sans starts walking, and every nerve in your body is on alert. You're pulled along with him, but you can't help but desperately look around at the decorations, the smiling (yet blatantly staring) faces of the monsters, the starry sky stretched out above your head instead of the oppressive cavern. 

You concentrate harder than you ever have. 

The sight of the celebration fills you with **DETERMINATION.**

_Please, just let me stay here a little longer. At least give me that option._

You exhale and squeeze his hand. Your voice comes out even. "What bullshit is that?"

"we both know you're not from around here." You manage a nod; he's right about that. Why do all Sanses have to be so perceptive all the time? He seems to be waiting for you to add to that statement, but you don't. If he's going to flip out on you or kill you, then you're going to enjoy looking around a little first, walking hand-in-hand with Sans. He draws in a deep breath. "so why--"

"Hey. On the couch, that was pretty nice, huh?" Well, looks like you decide to interrupt him. He grins and nods, leaning his face toward your neck. His breath smells like smoke and mustard. 

"i'll say."

"I would've liked to keep going," you admit, your cheeks heating up. "But then you lied to Papyrus and brought me to this party.. but can we make it not a lie?" You turn to face him and catch his surprised expression. 

"look, dollface, we need to talk first. we really do."

You wonder if that 'talk' is going to involve him murdering you like the musical Sans. 

"After the party," you insist. "Just for tonight, can I please just be your date and enjoy this?"

There must have been something borderline pleading in your gaze because he looks like he wants to argue, to insist that you need to find somewhere to talk.. but then he adjusts the brim of his hat and shrugs. "fine by me, sweetheart. let's grab some grub."

###### 

Sans started off irritated, but as he watches you eat Cinna Bunnies and pigs in a blanket made of water sausages, that slowly wanes. He wanted desperately to pull you aside and admit everything--that he knew who you were, that he _remembered_ you, but he didn't want to do it in public, where he couldn't slam you into a wall and just take you. There were plenty of questions he had.. like had you been hopping timelines for years or just happened to hop into this point? Did you ever find the other him? 

... Did you ever find any more of _him_ that might have been drawn to you?

As petty as it was to essentially be jealous of himself, after all this time, the mere idea still drove him crazy. He really wished Papyrus hadn't outed him for his human fetish. If you threw that up in his face, he wasn't sure how he was going to handle it. 

You dart around the celebration, flitting between booths, all smiles and rainbows. Sans moves quick to stay at your side, casting glares at monsters that watch you, but thanks to his presence, none of them approach. He's developed a ruthless reputation to rival even his brother's, and no one feels like getting dusted over him bringing a human along. 

Sans has a couple of shots, but when he offers you a drink, you purse your lips and refuse. He teases you a little, and you mumble something about glitter vomit that makes no sense to him, so he lets it go in favor of getting buzzed. You do, however, drink a magical tea that makes your skin tingle and your eyes shine so vibrantly, they practically glow in the dark. After that, Sans pulls you behind a booth and kisses you hard, pulling your body flush against his and running his fingerbones along your arm. The feeling makes you gasp and lightly moan, the magic in the drink causing your nerves to feel like they're on fire.. but as quickly as the feeling is there, it's gone, and you're left craving more. Sans pulls back and smirks. 

"What was that?" you ask him, breathless.

"that was a tea that brings your magic to the surface to heighten pleasure. humans don't have much magic, so it doesn't last long for 'em." He winks. "so i had to take advantage while i could."

You're still dizzy from the kiss when he pulls you back into the party. Several monsters come up to talk to Sans, and all of them give you curious looks.. though some of the females outright bare their fangs toward you when they think he isn't looking. He makes a mental note to give them a personal warning later. He leads you to the area where there's quite a bit of dancing going on, and you remember the last timeline.. how it felt to be moving with that Sans..

And how it felt when he dunked on you.

Digging your heels into the ground, you manage to stop. Sans glances back at you, and you shake your head. "Um.. I'm not much of a dancer."

To your relief, he shrugs. "me either. thought ya'd like it, though."

Just as you're starting to head away from the dancers, one of the few humans attending the party appears. In fact, she's the only the third human you've counted in the last hour, including yourself.

"Hello Sans!" she places a hand on his chest and looks up at him with a wink, completely ignoring the fact that you're holding his hand. You didn't realize that people with this kind of audacity actually existed. The woman is pretty, and obviously has some sort of history with Sans. 

"hey," he responds simply. "sup?"

"This party is amazing, and all the monsters here are really enjoying themselves! I was coming over to see if you wanted some company tonight, curtesy of the Dreemurs, but.." Finally, she slants her gaze toward you. One full lips sticks out in a pout. "I see that you brought a date."

"yep, already got that taken care of. i'm sure boss could use an _escort_ back home, though." The woman shudders, and when she smiles at the pun, you see that it's lost some of its brilliance. 

"N-no, I'm sure he'll have no problems finding someone else. Papyrus is a top player, after all." Sans's grin widens a little, and you're a little impressed at this woman's ability to simultaneously reject and praise his brother. Undoubtedly, she must know better than to hastily refuse. You can already imagine what this Papyrus would think if she tried to come onto him. He had looked at you with disgust the entire time you were in his presence, as if you were beneath him. 

"heh, you're right about that." Sans shrugs, though pulls you closer to his side. "i'm sure you'll find someone else. big party, after all." Even you knew the statement was a dismissal. 

She nods once, her gaze flicking between the two of you. "Yes, I'm sure. Have a pleasant evening, Sans." As you turn away, she raises her voice a little. "I had a fantastic time the other night, by the way!"

He flinches slightly, though continues walking, pointedly looking away from you. Your face is burning, and you tell yourself this isn't the same Sans from that timeline. This isn't the one that called you his. And even if it was, what about your sins with Papyrus?

No, this is some mobster Sans that's never met you, but is somehow playing along with your 'date' because he has some kind of human fetish. You had already connected the dots, so this information isn't surprising. 

_Just enjoy it. You're the worst sinner of them all. Don't ruin this._

"So, you really do have a thing for humans, huh?"

_SHIT, HELL! WHY CAN'T YOU KEEP YOUR SINNER MOUTH SHUT?!_

Sans flinches hard, as if you physically slapped him, and he has to pull a handkerchief from the pocket beside his lapel to wipe the sweat from the side of his face. "look, uh.. yeah, i might." He shrugs, trying to be casual, but his eyelights are extinguished and the corners of his smirk are twitching. Well, you just made him uncomfortable. "i mean, you're a human, and i.."

He trails off, and you quickly nod. "O-oh, yeah, I totally get it." Shit, why did you voice break there? Stop it. You breathe in and give him a fake bright smile. "Humans are exotic or something, right? And the whole thing on the couch, well.. now we know how you know what humans like." You tried to be teasing, but it didn't come out very convincing. 

Ugh, your selfish, unjustified, petty jealousy is annoying. But you did ruin the timeline and create this mess all because of your petty jealousy, so at least you aren't doing _that_ now. That's gotta be progress, right? 

Man, your subconscious is a bitter bitch.

Sans stops, and you keep walking until your arms stretch out between you like a tether and he jerks you back against him. His eyelights are back, but they're tiny pin-pricks, and he's searching your gaze for _something_. When he doesn't seem to find it, you hear an audible growl from the back of his throat even over the sounds of the music, and then he starts marching off, dragging you along with him.

Shit, you pissed him off. Well, at least if he kills you, you can just **LOAD** and _keep your mouth shut._ Well, unless he remembers. Then, you're screwed.

"Okay, hey, I'm not kink-shaming you or anything!" You say that a little louder than you intended, and several drunken monsters turn sharp looks to you and start laughing. Sans's grip on your hand becomes painful, but he doesn't stop walking. "I wasn't trying to tease, I.. I was just curious! If I hurt your feelings--"

" **shut up.** "

Wow, his deep voice just dropped an octave. You obediently stop talking and try to jog a couple of steps to keep up with him. He's a little taller than you, but for someone so perpetually-lazy no matter the timeline, he's certainly walking fast. He takes you away from the celebration, away from the colorful lanterns, streamers, and magical lights that decorate the square. He stops in a dark alleyway, and you're once again convinced you're going to be killed. It always has been so easy for you to be killed by monsters..

~~And so easy for you to kill them.~~

He whirls around and fills your vision, planting a hand on either side of your head as he levels his gaze with yours, looming over you. You should be scared, but you're not. You weren't lying when you said you weren't scared of him. No matter the iteration, he's still Sans. Sans was your best friend, and a red-eyed version of him was so much more. He can do whatever he wants with you, and you'd accept it, just as you accepted the last Sans's judgement without a fight. 

"Sans.." His name escapes you on a tiny sigh, and he presses his forehead to yours, the brim of his hat resting on the top of your head. 

"c'mon, sweetheart.. stop this pretendin'. ya remember me, dont'cha?" 

You suck in a sharp breath, your hands suddenly clutching the front of his jacket. "A..are you saying that y-you--?"

You can't breathe. His palms cup your cheeks, and his teeth ghost your lips. "yeah, you're the time-traveling human, alright. you're _mine_." 

His thumbs brush your cheeks, and you realize you're crying. You thought he was gone forever, that you'd never see him again after your foolish mistake of **RESET** ing. Your breathing is shallow and shaky, but you're so deliriously happy. "How..?"

You're asking that question to the universe in general, but Sans thinks you're asking for a timeframe. "it's been 'bout thirty years, give or take."

That blows your mind, and you sputter, clutching onto his clothing tighter. "Wh-what? You.. you remember me after _thirty years_?" 

Your jealousy moments ago seems beyond petty and trivial now.

"'course i do. i told ya that you're _mine_. i don't make that claim lightly, but you.. ya just kinda disappeared after that last loop." He brings an arm to your lower back and draws you against him, though his head pulls back enough to meet your gaze directly.  "where'd ya go, sweetheart?"

"I.. I ended up in another timeline. Um, a nonviolent one." You're trembling as you cling to him, your smile giddy. This is what became of this Sans. Thirty years later, the barrier breaks and he becomes some sort of mafia monster on the Surface by what you could deduce from the context clues, but he's free and he's _happy_. His relationship with his brother even seemed to be less violent! Everyone was talking to him, and he had plenty of female interest; he's doing well. 

"promise me ya won't do that again. loop or whatever." He holds your gaze, one hand sliding from your face to the back of your neck. "promise you'll stay here with me, that you'll stay _mine_."

You've long-since realized why Sans always hated making promises. You're a promise-breaker, and you know it. 

But you really do want to stay here with him. It would be so nice to just stay here in this timeline, where you could happily be his. You know you can't make that promise right now; you need to be rational, to think about the other timeline and what it could mean since you were able to find this Sans's timeline again, thirty years down the line. This information is a lot to mull over, just.. not right now.

Instead of promising, you throw your arms around his neck and kiss him. Fireworks literally go off at the party square, like some overdone movie cliché, and you hear distant cheering and unintelligible celebratory shouts from faraway. All of the sounds are muffled from the sound of your heart thumping in your ears, pounding in your chest. He returns the kiss with the desperation of a man dying from thirst, drinking in your mouth, all while trying to crush you into his chest. You're left breathless and gasping when he finally breaks apart, his mouth at your neck, tongue tasting your skin.

"sweetheart, i can't let you go anywhere again. i'll protect ya, i promise. so, just.. stay." The last word comes out in a growl that vibrates against your torso and straight to your core. You practically moan against his shoulder, wanting nothing more than to rip off all his clothes. 

"Okay. Sans... Okay." You can barely form words, but you'll say anything to keep him here with you at this point. The grunt that vibrates through him this time sounds contented, but when his mouth comes back to your ear, he momentarily pauses.

"how many timelines did'ja go through? how long has it been for ya?"

"L..like two other timelines?" Was that really all? You chose not to disclose the one with the flowers; that brief encounter barely counted. 

He hums. "and did'ja ever find the other me?"

"No.. n-not really." His hand grips your ass and grinds you pelvis against his. 

"was there anyone else besides me?"

Papyrus flashes through your mind, the way he drew you against him as you kissed him.. and the way you shared a bed, exploring his ribs while you cuddled.

Not to mention the taste of his magical cum.

Sans notices your hesitation and draws back to look at you directly. His phalanges edge into your hair. You answer him honestly. "You're the only one I-I've ever had sex with. You.. you were my first." 

Did that just blow the whole _oh hey, I'm your girlfriend from another timeline_ thing that you two originally had going? Or were you way past that after _thirty years_? 

He notices the way you skirt around the question. Oh man, does he notice. "it doesn't matter what happened in those timelines," he says resolutely, making you relax. You didn't want to admit your sins, not now. His grip tightens in your hair, and suddenly, you feel the world rapidly shift. When it stops, you feel mildly queasy, and you're standing in front of the couch again. He forces you to look up at him, and his smirk is as sharp as ever. "i'm gonna make sure ya'know you're _mine_. no one else's. i don't want ya to even _think_ about those other me's."

That statement alone turned you on more than anything else ever had. Having Sans be so possessive over you? Yeah, that's a wet dream turned reality. 

Still, you don't know how to _shut your fucking mouth._

"What about your.. your human fetish?" You didn't feel that it was right for him to be the one asking all the probing questions when he was obviously renown for rutting with human hookers. 

"i didn't sleep with anyone--monster or human-- for twelve years after ya left."

Oh, shit. You shouldn't have brought this up.

"Wh.. really?"

He nods, eyelights still locked with your gaze. "so, i'll ask again.. how many years have passed for you?"

Years? Yeah, it'd been.. what? Maybe three days? Four, if you stretched it. Maybe five if you were _super generous_ with the time you had spent idle in the loading screen. A week if you outright lied.

"Five..."

"only fi--"

"Days."

His eyelights rapidly shrank until they extinguished entirely. Why did you have to choose now to tell the semi-truth? You shift a little nervously, and his fingers go lax in your hair. Finally, he finds his voice, but it's low and sounds like he just swallowed a chunk of rocks and glass. "it's only been _five days_ since we fucked?"

You mutely nod, feeling your face flush bright. 

"i damn well _better_ be your first and only, in that case." This time, his growl comes from frustrated anger, and he spins you away from him, pushing you back onto the couch. You brace your fall with your hands, but you end up with your knees on the cushions and your hands on back of the couch. Instantly, Sans is behind you, pushing your legs against with his knees. He seems to get frustrated with the tight fabric of your dress and rips it all the way up your back. There go your only clothes in the timeline, again. When he rips your panties off as well in an impressive show of strength, you find that you're too turned on to care that you'll be wearing his clothes tomorrow. You try to turn toward him, to catch his tie in your hand, but he pushes you down against the back of the couch. 

"nope, i told ya before, i'm gonna make damn sure you know who ya belong to." There's the sound of rustling fabric, and then he reaches over you, his crimson tie in his hands. He binds your wrists together with that tie, and you find yourself reminded of the chain he had used to bind your arms _less than five days ago_. There's nothing to secure the end of the tie to, so he holds onto it with one hand, and you feel the fingers of his other hand enter you without preamble.

Although there was no need for any; you're dripping wet, and he groans at the obvious discovery. 

"has anyone else touched ya like this?" His motions are slow, shallow, and torturous, and you're on fire, trying to move your hips against his hand. You need him deeper, touching that sweet spot hidden inside, and when he curls the tips of his fingers, you almost sob with need. 

"No, just you--only you."

He lets go of the end of the tie, removes his fingers from within you, and moves behind you. You're not sure what he's doing until you suddenly feel his tongue lap against your entrance. You gasp sharply and bury your face against the couch, feeling your face grow as hot as the rest of your body. His tongue is as hot as ever, with that familiar tingle of magic that sends electricity throughout your entire body, leaving you craving more. 

"Please, Sans--" You're not above begging. His face presses against you, and you can _feel_ him smirk.

"you taste even better than i remembered, sweetheart. _stars_ , you're perfect." His breath is impossibly hot against you, and when the tip of his tongue slips inside your entrance, a rather loud moan escapes you. He has to hold onto your hips to keep you from rocking back against his face in an effort to draw him deeper. His chuckles are breathy, but after a couple of more generous licks, he pulls away just in time to catch the end of the tie with a hand as you attempt to twist toward him. 

"nope. stay facing that way," he instructs, his voice tight. He leans over you and pulls on the tie end, forcing you to bend further over the back of the couch, and you hear the sound of a zipper. In the next instant, he buries himself inside you with a single thrust, and you gasp and moan while he groans against your neck. He doesn't give you time to adjust to the girth of his magical phallus, instead setting a grueling pace that reveals his desperation for you. The twinge of magic makes it feel amazing, though it's a bit overstimulating, especially when he starts biting your shoulder and sucking on your neck. 

He's still fully-clothed and you're still wearing half your dress, so you can't feel his bones scrape against your back, but you can feel his weight lean into you. His hand grips your hip, dragging you harder against his pelvis for a few thrusts, before it wedges itself between you and the couch to grasp your breast and knead. You start rolling your pelvis against his, which draws a ragged groan against your neck, and his grip loosens on the tie. You take advantage of the situation and arch your back to sit up, moving your arms backward to loop them around his neck. You're both on the couch cushions on your knees now, with you practically bouncing against his lap, and you grab the back of his neck and squeeze the spinous processes there. 

"shit. shit. sweetheart, you're... you're so amazing." He pants, his hand shoved down the front of your dress so his fingers could pinch your nipple. You arch into the touch, moaning, too overwhelmed to keep up with his thrusts. He gasps, using his other hand to keep your hips moving, swiveling his upward into yours whenever you're buried to the hilt. He feels so good, so wonderful, and you want to tell him that, but you can't do more than make incomprehensible moans that borderline on sobs. "tell me you're mine. tell me you're only mine."

"I.. I'm.. 'course.. I'm _yours_ , all yours!" You manage between gasps and moans.

Finally--mercifully--his hand retreats from your breast to slick his fingers across your folds, and that touch is all you need to come unglued. You come hard on him, clutching his neck like a lifeline while he continues to thrust hard, using your climax to push him over the brink. His magic fills you, and he turns sideways and collapses with his back against the arm of the couch. Since your wrists are bound around his neck, you're forced to fall with him, your back against his chest, too spent to bother moving. He keeps his cock in you for a while, and when you glance down, you can see it faintly glowing red where your bodies are still joined. 

"Can.. can we just.. stay like this for a while?" Your voice is shaky; you're still trying to catch your breath. You like the feeling of being connected, of being with him. There are tears on your cheeks, and you don't know if they're from how amazing that was, the guilt you've buried, or the fact that he still cares about you after _thirty years_. 

"sweetheart, we can stay like this forever." He turns his head to press his teeth to your neck, your cheek, your temple. His arms gather you close to his chest, and you close your eyes, beyond exhausted. 

You can feel sleep start to creep up on you, making your body heavy. "Mm, promise?"

There's a hum of agreement against your back, before his warm breath is at your ear. 

"promise."

It's a shame that if the last timeline has taught you anything, it's that you and Sans will always have one thing in common.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I once said "Don't worry, I have plans for UF!Sans!"  
> Well, here ya go. We get a glimpse at what the future held for our dear Red. 
> 
> Remember that I love hearing what you guys think of this turn of events! I know a lot of you loved Red as much as I do. 
> 
> As a side note, I have another trash fic that's Reader x Everyone (legit Reader, not Reset-Frisk-powers Reader) reverse-harem type deal that I plan on putting up soon. I'm just getting some chapter padding done with that one because I don't want it to interfere with this one, but it'll be more skeleton shenanigans, comedy, tropes, and fluff. So, it's been a nice little break to work on compared to all the guilt trips this Reader goes through.


	8. Valentine's Day Special

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before all the **RESET** business, you made home-made chocolates for Classic!Sans.
> 
> And after the **RESET** business, you go on a fancy date with Mob!Red. 
> 
> * Two-part Valentine's Day special. If you're just in it for steamy Underfell(Mob) Sans, feel free to skip down a little bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Smut warning.**  
>  Okay, so I was originally going to post this as a few Valentine's Day one-shots (one of which was going to be a sex scene with Underswap Papyrus, but I didn't have time to write it. Next time.), but.. both of these ended up being **canon** to this fic, so I decided it's just a bonus chapter since I don't have an update for this week. 
> 
> The first portion we have is a moment between the Reader and Classic!Sans. I was writing it as part of a Frans week prompt, but.. yeah, it ended up being the Reader from this instead. It's pretty much just a drabble.
> 
> And the second portion is Mob!Red and the Reader on a date. Yes, this is canon, too. I'll mention it in the chapter after this, and address more of what happens after the couch sex then. For now, just enjoy the good times.

###### Broken Chocolate Hearts

Your hands are actually shaking, like they do when you're forced to give an ambassador speech in front of stern-looking men in suits. Only you're not about to give a speech. No, you're standing in front of a door with fallacious, magical flames licking from the underside, trying to come up with a clever knock knock joke. 

You really shouldn't be this nervous; it isn't like you haven't given chocolates to the skelebros every year since coming to the Surface. This year just feels different, though. Your nerves are fluttering full-force, and your face feels flushed. Maybe it's because you'd actually made homemade chocolates this time? 

You had never made homemade chocolate before, but after a weekend with Alphys, you learned how. The two of you had watched all the Valentine's Day anime specials you could, and instead of going with boring store-bought chocolate, she talked you into baking your own. "I-it has more meaning that way!" she had insisted, her scales lit up with a faint blush. Her chocolates ended up fish-shaped with elaborate drizzle to look like perfect scales, thanks to her scientific knowledge and simple fire magic.

Yours... well...

Yours ended up burnt or a melted mess of goo every time. You had been trying to make yours elaborate, too, and that was your mistake. Given that you were making your chocolates for Sans, you should have just put minimal effort into it and been done, but the whole point of making these yourself was to make them special. You spent way too much time wrapping your gift, and you even made a few bone-shaped ones for Papyrus. You knew he'd appreciate the effort. 

As expected, when you presented Papyrus with his chocolates moments ago, he had gasped and inspected each piece like it was a work of art. They were shaped like little bones. "FOR ME? WOWIE! YOU CAPTURED THE LIKENESS OF MY ATTACKS PERFECTLY, HUMAN! HOWEVER, YOU MUST REMEMBER TO HOLD YOUR FEELINGS BACK AND KEEP THINGS PLATONIC! ALTHOUGH.. I SUPPOSE FOR THIS ONE DAY OF THE YEAR, YOU CAN LET YOUR TRUE FEELINGS SHOW! I'M A COOL AND UNDERSTANDING FRIEND, SO I WILL ACCEPT THESE CHOCOLATES AND IN EXCHANGE, MAKE YOU YOUR FAVORITE VALENTINE'S DAY SPAGHETTI!"

You know from experience that Valentine's Day spaghetti is the same as regular spaghetti, but with little conversation hearts mixed in the sauce. 

You left Papyrus in the kitchen to cook, while you went up the stairs to Sans's room, a gift bag clutched in your hand and your messenger bag slung over your shoulder. 

_Stop stalling. This is stupid. Just knock on the door!_

Inhaling slowly, you finally bring your fist up and knock twice. "Knock knock," you vocalize.

There's a light chuckle on the other side, followed by a muffled, "who's there?"

"Luke," you answer, and you hear him laugh, anticipating a good one.

"luke who?"

"Luke who got a Valentine!" 

When he opens the door, your grin is shit-eating and your face is red. His eyelights are bright with mirth as he shakes his head, leaning against the doorframe. His gaze trails from the gift in your hands, to the bag across your shoulder. "looks like you're the one that got the valentines, kiddo. is your bag stuffed full of 'em?"

It takes a second for it to register that he's talking about all the Valentine's presents you got at school (only three months left until you graduate, and you've long-since hit the magical legal number of eighteen!). "Oh! Um. No, not really. Just some friends giving me chocolate." 

Sans reaches out and yanks a stuffed dog out of your bag whose head had been protruding out the side of it. He glances at the heart the plushie is holding and reads it aloud with an eyebrow bone quirked in amusement. " _throw me a bone and be my valentine._ huh. wish i had gotten this one for paps." He chuckles and holds it up. "where'd you get this, kiddo?"

You grab for it, but he pulls it out of reach at the last second. Damn his amazing reflexes. "M.K. gave it to me."

"monster kid?"

"Yeah, at school." You grab for it again. _Miss._

"seems like someone has a crush." His voice is teasing, and it makes your face turn brighter. 

"I don't like him like that, and you know it." You'd tried really hard to ignore the way M.K.'s scales turned red when he handed you the stuffed dog. It was really cute, but you would have liked it better if it came from Sans.. not that he ever actually got you more than a gag gift.

"why not throw the guy a bone?" He's chuckling again, but this time, he lets you grab the dog back. You cram it into your bag with way more force than necessary. 

"I don't want to." You're losing your nerve, but you thrust the gift bag toward him half-angrily. His eyelights flicker from it to you, but he takes it and gives it a shake. 

"what's this?"

You immediately grab onto his wrist, your heart pounding. "Careful! It's fragile! It's, ah.. it's for you."

Curious, Sans pulls open the bag and peers inside. You must have thrown him off because you usually just give him something funny or tacky--and always store-bought and unwrapped. He pulls out the small box inside and opens the lid to discover the chocolate heart. In the middle of it, you had written his name with drizzle and decorated the edges with little white bone chocolates, like the ones you gave Papyrus. It's unsurprising that it took you all night to perfect. 

But what was surprising was that the heart was broken in half, likely thanks to his rough treatment.

You eyes are suddenly burning.

"wow, kiddo. you.. uh, you made this?"

You can barely process his words. You're too busy staring at the fact that the chocolate's broken. You numbly nod. 

"sorry. i guess i broke it, but hey, broken chocolate still tastes the same." He shrugs, nonchalant over your hard work. He picks up a half and takes a bite. His face gives nothing away; you can't tell if it's good or bad. "heh, thanks. it was real _sweet_ of you."

You nod again, still holding back tears. You had worked so hard, but what did you expect? If you had been giving that one to Papyrus instead, he would have framed your work. Sans was just doing what he was supposed to and eating it. 

Surprisingly, your voice comes out even when you speak, despite the moisture gathered in your eyes. "If you put the other half under your pillow, I bet you'll have _sweet dreams_."

This actually gets a surprised chortle from Sans, who takes another bite of the chocolate. "i, uh.. didn't bake anything. the last time i tried making something from a box, paps gave me the cold shoulder, and it was rather _frosting_. i tried to tell him we all _bake_ mistakes." Sans shrugs, playing it off as he places the other broken half of the heart back into the box, drops it into the gift bag, and then disappears back into his room. You know you can follow him; you've fallen asleep plenty of times in the pig sty he calls a bedroom, but you stay outside the door and try to compose yourself.

What did you really think was going to be accomplished here? If he'd pulled out your chocolate and looked impressed, were you going to confess your feelings? What was your end game?

Ugh, you blink rapidly, starting to become angry with yourself. Sans comes back with a store-bought heart filled with chocolates and hands it to you. The front of it has a cartoon shark and the caption "I think you're JAW-some." His pun selection never disappoints. 

Your smile is weak, but at least your eyes aren't burning anymore. "Thanks Sans. That's a good one." You inwardly cringe at your lame attempt to hide your disappointment and stuff the heart into your bag with the others from school. "Papyrus is downstairs making Valentine's Day spaghetti. Wanna watch the Mettaton V-day special while we wait?"

"oh man, i hear mett's really outdone himself this time. let's do it."

And so the two of you sit on the couch and watch the special, where Mettaton ends up in a 'coma' because he has to recharge after a rather intense kiss, and the rest of the cast argues over who it was that Mettaton kissed. You and Sans end up shouting a play-by-play to Papyrus while he's in the kitchen, but you end up embellishing and the lies become more and more elaborate:

"mett came out of the coma only to fall into another one when he realized a hair was out of place."

"The entire cast is played by Mettaton in different clothing and wigs."

"it turns out that it wasn't mett at all in the coma, but his evil twin brother."

"GASP! I KNEW METTATON COULDN'T BE SO WANTON WITH HIS AFFECTIONS!"

"no, wait, it's actually not the brother."

"OH NO!! SO IT WAS METTATON ALL ALONG?!"

"The person he kissed wasn't really a person at all!"

"WHAT?!?!"

"It was..."

"...the annoying dog."

Finally, Papyrus came into the living room wearing a chef's hat, his eyelights boggling in opposite directions. "YOU TWO HAVE BEEN PULLING MY LEG MORE THAN THAT CARNIVOUS CANINE! BUT YOU CANNOT JAPE THE MASTER!"

The two of you broke into laughter and apologized, which made Papyrus start laughing too. He returned to his spaghetti, and the three of you ate in the living room. You crunched up the conversation hearts and tried not to wrinkle your nose over the terrible chalky flavor it gave the spaghetti, while Sans covered his in ketchup to mask the taste. Papyrus showed Sans the bone candy you made him, and Sans gave you a meaningful look. Whatever the meaning was, however, was lost on you. 

After the plates had been cleaned up, Sans walked by with a blanket rolled under his arm. "you comin' kiddo?" 

"Where to?"

He shrugs, mysterious as always. And as always, you comply, following after him. He walks into the woods nearby until he finds a clearing away from the trees and lays out the blanket. Your heart is thumping quickly. He sits down on it and pats the spot beside him, so you sit down as well. You follow his gaze up and find that the stars are bright in the clear sky. 

"It's been a while since we've come out here," you muse. When everyone first reached the Surface, Sans was absolutely fascinated with the stars. You would sit with him for hours while he looked through the telescope and poured over astronomy books. He already knew way more than you expected him to know about the stars, and once he was able to start pin-pointing constellations, his picked up quickly. But you already knew he was incredibly intelligent when it came to scientific pursuits. 

"yeah. i still do, but it's usually pretty late at night, if i can't sleep. but hey, maybe i will have some _sweet dreams_ tonight." He grins, and you blush. "here i thought you made my chocolates special, but you gave homemade ones to everyone this year, huh?"

You're confused for a moment, until you realize he's talking about Papyrus's bone chocolates. "Oh. No, I gave Papyrus the extra bones I made for yours." You face heats up a little more. You decide to tease him before things get awkward. "What? You disappointed he got some, too?"

"nope. just checking."

You feel that he wants to say more, but you're too scared. You chicken out. Instead, you continued staring at the stars, feeling your heart racing. You're shaking, but it's not really from the cold; it's from nerves. If you press him, you could confess, but..

What if he breaks more than just your chocolate heart?

Suddenly, you're engulfed by warmth, and you glanced over at him. He's lying back on the blanket now, his arms behind his head, clad in his white T-shirt. His usual blue jacket is around your shoulders, and you move your arms into the sleeves, absorbing the lingering body heat. 

"you were shaking."

"Thanks Sans."

It smells like greasy food, faint ketchup, and must--but it doesn't smell bad to you. You lie back on the blanket beside him, his jacket engulfing your frame, and you slowly move your head until it touches his shoulder. You stay like that for a while, just staring up at the stars in companionable silence, before you start to feel your eyes get heavy. Just as you start to doze off, you feel an arm close around your shoulders, pulling you against his ribs. 

"thanks kid."

You were quiet for so long that he thought you were asleep, but you finally smiled, snuggled closer to his side, and murmured a sleepy, "Happy Valentine's Day, Sans."

 

 

 

###### Red's Really Your Color

Sans was trying really hard not to snap at everyone in the restaurant that so much as looked your way. 

You were wearing a beautiful dress--in his favorite color, red, which he knew wasn't a coincidence--that showed off plenty of leg and cleavage. While he certainly enjoyed the view, he knew that the exposed flesh was drawing the gazes of some other patrons, and it was really pissing him off. If you didn't look so gorgeous, he would have taken off his pin-strip jacket and covered you up right then and there. Instead, he opted for pulling your chair out by hand instead of with his magic, so he could use the opportunity to practically snarl at the other diners. 

They immediately averted their gazes. Sans smirked. Being a high-ranking monster mobster had its perks; no one messed with him anymore, and he didn't even have to wear a collar to get that effect. All these years on the Surface had given him the opportunity to gain his own reputation. 

Well.. a couple of reputations. One of them happened to be that he had a human fetish, which was why it wasn't surprising to anyone to see Sans with a human in-tow. However, you were different; you were _his_. If he was to pull your dress away from your shoulder, everyone would be able to see the bite he left on your soft flesh, the way he had left his claim. In fact, you had plenty of little love bites over your body, ones that screamed _Sans was here, touch her and die_. 

He had to stop himself from snarling by lighting up a cigar as he took a seat across from you and removed his fedora, only to hang it on the edge of his chair. The red smoke curled through the air, and you wrinkled your nose slightly, but he knew you were being dramatic; a magic cigar didn't smell and didn't have the same detrimental health effects as human cigars. 

"This is a lovely place," you murmur with a bright smile that makes Sans's SOUL clench in his chest. "Can't help but notice there's no other humans here, though." You sound a little nervous to him, and he smirks. That's cute. He exhales a puff of smoke and shrugs. 

"the districts are divided, sweetheart. but don't ya worry; you're with me, understand? no one's gonna dare lay a finger on ya." Sans says it with such confidence that he notices your shoulders relax. Are you worried about being separated from him again? He would get dusted before he let that happen. He may have not been able to protect you before, but the years have changed him.. hardened him. He'd not the same apathetic skeleton he used to be, not after everything he faced getting to the Surface--and everything he faced after. 

"I know. It's just strange. The last time I was..."

You trail off, and Sans watches your expression shift. Your smile fades around the edges, and you get that faraway look in your eye. He hates seeing it. He never did get the full story about what happened, and after all these years have passed (but only _days_ for you?! Time travel is a bitch), he's decided it's not important. What matters is that his SOUL doesn't have that dull throb in it anymore, and he couldn't be happier. 

"you'll get used to it. i mean, things ain't gonna get better overnight, but they're better than they were." He shrugs again, though holds your gaze. After snuffing out the cigar, he slides it into a little metal box, slips it back into his inside jacket pocket, and then reaches out to grab your hand. More stares. Neither of you pay them any mind. "and they'll only continue to get better with you here."

Sans watches as the heat floods to your cheeks, and that bright smile returns. You always seem to brighten under his compliments, which makes him wonder if you were starved for them in another life. Brushing that thought aside, Sans looks up just in time to spot the waiter, who comes to get the drink orders. Sans starts to order monster vodka and mustard, but you're hesitating, looking over the drink menu.

"i thought ya said somethin' about glitter vomit and never drinkin' again," Sans remarks, amused. He's hoping you'll elaborate about the glitter vomit, but you only raise the menu to block the sight of his grin. 

"I did, but.. There was some magic drink I've had before. It made my arms feel kinda funny, remember?" You're sheepish when you ask him, and Sans suddenly recalls when you tried a drink meant to amplify magic. Your eyes had seemed impossibly bright, and you had claimed his touch felt electric. 

"oh yeah. wanna try it again?" You nod, looking excited all over again, and Sans chuckles. "change my order to a magic monsoon, and make it two." It's not the same drink that you're thinking of, but Sans knows this one is basically the same, only more potent. The two of you place your food order since you're ready, and Sans holds your hand on the table while you wait. His thumb trails methodically across your skin, rubbing over the bumps of your knuckles, and he feels you rub the tip of your heel against his leg. The world feels perfect in that moment.

You and Sans make small talk. He tells you about the time Papyrus took real cooking lessons, and you ask questions about his time on the Surface. Sans can tell that you're comparing his timeline to your original, and he's tempted again to ask you if the other-him and you ever walked under the stars together, but he's determined to leave it in the past. 

Then, the drinks come and Sans watches you sniff it and wrinkle your nose again, looking suspicious. 

"it's got alcohol in it, sweetheart. you know that."

You sigh, looking abashed. "I know, but.. I had a glitter taco, okay? I got drunk, got hungover, and threw up glitter the entire morning after."

Sans wasn't expecting the sudden explanation, and he nearly chokes on his drink. From the look you give him while he coughs and sputters, you probably didn't realize skeletons could choke. "the fuck is a glitter taco?" he manages, leaning forward in curiosity. 

"Some sort of friendship taco? I mean, he meant well, but it just sucked the entire day after." 

Sans catches the _he_ part of that statement, and his possessive nature flares up. His hand tightens on the glass, and he has to set it down before he breaks it. Is the _he_ another version of Sans from a different timeline? He told you that you were _his_ , that he would make you forget any other version of him, and he meant it. Was he going to have to prove that right here, on this very table? It was seeming more and more likely. 

"But, I mean.. You know how your brother cooks. Didn't you just say he put vinegar in his lasagna? I really shouldn't be surprised that there was glitter."

Sans's entire body relaxes. Well, it's more like he deflates, sighing in relief. You were talking about a version of his brother; that makes more sense! "heh, yeah, he once used an entire bottle. i mean, broken glass pieces and everything. that dish was really to _die for_."

That draws a laugh from you. "Yeah, glass is definitely worse than glitter. There's no glitter in the drink right?" You curl your fingers delicately around the stem of the Magic Monsoon and lift it to the light. It looks like a miniature galaxy swirling around inside, full of purples, blues, and pinks that seem to be giving off a faint glow. 

"no glitter. just give it a try, and see what you think."

Sans holds out his glass, and you clink it against his. "To a wonderful second date."

He grins. "and an even better night."

The two of you both take long sips. Sans watches you over the rim of his glass, gauging your reaction. On cue, your eyes seem brighter, and when he reaches out and touches your arm, you gasp. A tingling sensation ripples up his bones, one that has him breathing a little heavier. His eyelights are bright and large in his sockets as he holds your gaze. 

"Oh wow. That felt.. almost electric? But much better than last time. Is it because you drank some this time?" You're mystified, touching your own arm, yet not feeling that wonderful ripple. You reach out and touch Sans's wrist, then dip your fingers into his sleeve to stroke the underside of his radius. He breathes out audibly and grabs your wrist. 

More stares. 

Both of you continue to ignore them, in your own little world. 

"w-well, that.. and i, uh, ordered us the stronger version," he admits, though he's distracted and squirming. This is interesting. You leave your hand shoved up his sleeve and use your free hand to pick up the glass and take another long sip. This time, you're the one watching him carefully as you drink it. You wedge a finger between the bones of his forearm, and he gasps before he's able to clench his teeth together. At the same time, his fingers tighten on your wrist, and you find yourself clenching your thighs together. Each little ripple seems to travel right down to your core. 

"What is this, exactly? An aphrodisiac?" You lower your voice, but you're amazed that they would outright sell something like this. 

"not e-..exactly.." His voice breaks off when you raise your leg and plant your foot on his chair, between his knees. The tip of your shoe rubs against his thigh, just above his knee, and he loses all coherent thought for a moment. "i told ya, it b-brings magic.. to the surface.. but, ah, it.. usually doesn't f-feel this nice, sweetheart." 

You tilt your head and pull on his arm, halfway dragging him across the table in an effort to feel more bone. "Maybe it's because I'm a human, so it's.. different?"

"y-yeah, probably that," he answers quickly, before taking a few more gulps. Instantly, his touch feels even better, but it's not enough. Fuck, you want to kiss him, and you want to kiss him _now_. 

You get an idea. Like all your other ideas, this one is terrible. 

And like every other time, you don't care.

"I have to go to the ladies' room," you announce, and Sans stares at you for a moment. 

"...what room?"

You forget that bathrooms are a foreign concept to him and have to suppress a groan. "I have to pee," you whisper, leaning in. That seems to break him out of his trance, and his grip goes lax on your wrist. 

"oh. got'cha. ok."

"Do you have to pee, too, Sans?"

He stares at you, completely lost. What a bonehead. "i.. i don't--"

"Just wait thirty seconds and then join me." Yeah, you had to spell it out for him, but you see the understanding dawn in his crimson eyelights, and his smirk is suddenly the widest it's ever been. Both of you continue to lock eyes as you down the rest of your drink, and he does the same. It takes some effort to peel yourself off the chair, and when you turn and walk toward the restroom, you're hyper-aware of your thighs rubbing together. 

You also finally notice the stares. Can they tell? Do you have a giant wet spot on the back of your dress?

You're too horned-up to care. You don't even feel any alcohol; it's not like the time in Waterfall when you were drunk and sad. No, this time your body feels tingly with whatever magic was in that drink, and all you know is that you _want_ Sans. You want to see just how good it can feel.

As you push the bathroom door open, you're pleasantly surprised to find that it's a single lockable unit with plenty of space. There's maroon tile all over the wall, and since most monsters don't require a bathroom unless they eat human food without any magic infused with it, you don't anticipate a line forming. 

... You never pictured yourself as the kind of person that would prompt restroom sex in the middle of dinner, and yet you can't help but feel the thrum of excitement that comes with the forbidden nature of the act. It's indecent, scandalous even, and somehow.. so much hotter because of that.

You barely have time to lock the door before Sans appears out of literal thin air behind you, turns you around, and presses you against the door. His teleporting is incredibly convenient. "who knew ya were this kinky?"

"I didn't," you admit, trying to wedge your hands between your bodies to unbutton the front of his shirt. You need to feel his ribs. 

" _stars_ , i love it." 

He hikes your dress up to your waist and grabs your thighs to pick you up. With your weight pressed against the door, he pins you against the surface with his hips and runs his phalanges along your legs. His touch is still just as intense, and you bite your lip to keep from groaning. Sans groans out loud at the sight and kisses you, hard. You feel the prick of his sharp teeth against your lip, and you gasp, shoving your hands into his shirt to grasp his ribs. He takes advantage to delve his tongue into your mouth, and you nearly lose it from the overwhelming feeling. His tongue is all magic, and the way the drink heightened your response to it has your head reeling. You bite his tongue a little harder than intended and he thrusts you against the door so hard that it rattles. If you hadn't locked it, you're one hundred percent positive you would have ended up back in public. 

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you rest them on the crests of his hips and work your hands along his ribs and sternum. Each touch draws a groan or gasp from Sans, who muffles the sound with your mouth. He finally pulls away just long enough to murmur, "hold on" and then pulls back from the door. You clutch his ribs, your hands practically wedged between them, while he carries you a few steps to the counter by the sink. He sets you down on the edge, though doesn't break away. Instead, his hand moves to your inner thigh and he shoves your soaked panties aside to delve a finger into you. You're so wet that he doesn't encounter the slightest bit of resistance, even when he adds another finger. 

But damn if he doesn't have the magic touch--literally! Your hips jerk toward his fingers, and you moan rather loudly, your mouth dropping to his clavicle. Your teeth run along the edge of his sternum and back up the other side, and he pants, thrusting his fingers in deeper and curling them ever-so-slightly just as your mouth moves to his neck. You meant to suck on a vertebrae, but you end up biting down, and he pulls you tight against him with his free hand. 

"fuck, you're so perfect. ha--ah--this feels so, ah.. so... _amazing_." He may be a talker in the sack, but you're scattering his thoughts, and he can barely focus on anything other than the feeling. His other hand lets go of your back and works its way to the front of your dress. He jerks it down to expose your bra and then jerks that down, too, so he can grab onto your breast. You've already decided he probably just likes the squishy feel since he doesn't have any skin, but his touch is still electric when his thumb flicks over your nipple. 

"Sans.. Sans.. Shhh.." You're both being too loud, so you try to be the voice of reason. Sans punishes you by ducking his head to run his tongue along a nipple, and you moan his name so loud that you _know_ there's no way the patrons didn't hear. 

... You decide not to care. 

"Fuck it," you breathe, your hands back on his ribs and legs around his hips. 

"mm, fuck what?" 

His tie is still around his neck, hanging loosely. You grab it and pull sharply, catching his gaze in the process. "Fuck _me_."

His eyelights are pin-pricks at this point, and he's sweating. " _stars_ , sweetheart. don't gotta tell me twice." Both of you fumble with his belt, and when you realize you're only hindering his progress, you resume sucking on his neck and clavicle. He groans, but hurries, and drops his pants all the way to his ankles. Before you can even pull away to stroke his bright red cock, Sans has pulled his fingers out of you, grabbed your hips, and thrust forward. He sheathes himself in one fluid motion, so quick that it probably would have hurt if the concentrated magic wasn't causing an electrical storm inside you. 

Sans curses under his breath, rocking back and forth with enough force to throw you off-balance. You brace yourself against the wall with one hand, the other still grabbing his ribs, and he takes a moment to admire the view. You're leaned back, chest exposed and dress pooled around your waist. He looks equally disheveled, and he catches a glimpse of himself thrusting into you in the bathroom mirror. It's the hottest thing he's ever seen. 

You can barely handle all of the sensations; everything feels good. Every touch, every thrust--hell, every sound that Sans makes only turns you on even more. With as heightened as your sensitivity is, you can feel his entire length as it sinks in and draws back. His pace is erratic. Sometimes, quick and shallow, other times long and hard.. then tortuously slow. His fingers run along your exposed skin, and you continue fondling bone, until you can't take it and just have to kiss him again. 

As soon as your tongue starts mimicking your lower halves in his mouth, Sans picks up the pace again, gripping your thighs hard enough to bruise. You start to come undone, the feeling coiling tight inside you, causing you to rock against him, trying to get him at just the right angle. Your legs clench around his hips, and you finally climax, gasping and practically sobbing his name. That's enough to drive him over the edge, too, and he bites you on the shoulder, right by the neck. It doesn't hurt, not with the way his tongue is swirling over your flesh, bringing that electric tingle straight to your still-pulsing groin. 

You find yourself holding onto his face when he pulls back, his forehead to yours, both of you looking into each other's eyes. You're both still for a moment, breathing heavily, coming down from your high.

"Well.. that drink was a good call.. gonna have to remember that one," you manage, grinning. 

His smirk widens. "oh yeah, gonna have to have that brought to the house by the case load." He strokes you cheek tenderly, and like always, looks like he has something he wants to say. However, after you wait for a moment, he simply kisses you again, lightly nipping your bottom lip. " _mine_ ," he breathes, as possessively as always. 

Smiling, you grab his tie and pull it tight. "Mine."

And then the moment is broken by some brave soul knocking on the door. You jolt, shoving him away so you can stuff your boobs back in your dress and straighten you panties. Ugh, you have red-tinted magical jizz running down your leg. Pointedly, you look from your thigh to Sans and narrow your eyes. 

"at least it matches your dress?" he whispers, shrugging. Completely unperturbed, the jerk. 

The knock comes again, followed by the door rattling when someone tries to enter. Sans has pulled his pants up, but he's working on his shirt buttons. You check yourself in the mirror. Your skin is red and your lips definitely look like you just made out with a sharp-toothed skeleton. Oh yeah, and the _magical jizz trailing down your leg._ Get some toilet paper and wipe that off already, geez!

You can't walk back into the restaurant. They were staring before, and you could ignore it, but now.. Now, it's too obvious. Now, they have a _reason_ to stare. You got caught in your first risky exhibitionist sexy time. You wish the floor could just open up and--

Oh. 

"Uh, you okay with leaving?" You whisper, hopefully. 

"i was hopin' you'd say that." He's obviously relieved.

"What about our food?" You're already slipping your arms around him.

"they can put it on my tab. speakin' of.. ya up for grillby's?"

"Grillby's is around here? You already know the answer." You had risked your life for a burg and fries at once point, but you don't bring that up now. Instead, you grin and kiss his cheek. He clutches you to him. 

And then the two of you teleport the hell away from there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said before, this date is canon, yes, but I realize it's skipping time-frame references and all that good shit. It'll be addressed next chapter when we get back to the actual plot. _This was just a Valentine's Day special._
> 
> I'll have you guys a proper update within a week. 
> 
> Sorry to anyone that got their hopes up that this would be it. ^^;


	9. *You're not a whore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans asks you to stay with him, so you do. 
> 
> *You desperately hope you can keep this promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up pretty long to make up for the lack of plot in the V-day Special.

The next morning, you wake up not on the couch, but in a rather nice bed. 

It's nothing like the bare mattress you're used to attributing to Sans and his AU counterparts. No, this bed has as much flare as the three-piece suit red-eyed Sans likes to wear, with satin sheets and a plush pillow-top mattress that feels like sleeping on a cloud. You wake up feeling well-rested, and it takes a moment for you to remember what happened. As soon as you move, you feel sore, however, and all of last night's activities come flooding back.

_Sans_.

He's not in the bed, and you're only wearing his dress shirt, but when you glance over at the nightstand, there's a note and a glass of water. In small, cramped handwriting it reads _had work this morning and didn't wanna wake ya. i picked you up some clothes since yours got ripped last night. don't get too attached to these either, doll. listen to me this time and don't leave the house, ok?_

Beside the nightstand was a bag filled with dresses, all in various shades of red or black. You pick out a comfortable bright red dress with a flare skirt and discover that Sans has a bathroom connected to his bedroom. There's even a toilet, you note with slight surprise until you remember his.. _preference_ for human women. Pushing that thought aside, you take the longest, hottest shower you can muster until you feel like you might faint from the steam and have to cool off by sitting in a towel on the closed lid of the toilet for a good ten minutes. After you dress, you admire your outfit in the mirror, twirling around to watch the dress billow out. It feels like a dream, waking up in the timeline and still being with Sans. You keep expecting the timeline to shift again, for you to turn around and watch everything crumble away at any second. 

So, you actually listen to him. There's no risking your life for a burg and fries at Grillby's this time. Nope, you sit down in the living room and mindlessly flip through channels on TV, marveling over how many of them have Mettaton in various roles. About an hour later, Sans literally appears out of thin air beside you on the couch, and you barely have time to gasp before he's pulled you into his lap and kissed you breathless.

"you listened this time." He sounds surprised between kisses.

"Yeah, I didn't want to risk it." 

"that's my girl. stay here, with me. ok? i won't let anything ever happen to ya." 

You smile, straddling his waist with your hands on his tie. "Okay. I'll stay with you, Sans."

And you did.

###### 

Days passed, and you didn't feel the usual heavy weight of guilt strangling you like usual. You should still feel guilty; your sins hadn't suddenly been fucked away by Sans. 

But you just felt too happy to care right now. It came as no surprise that you could be that selfish.

You still woke up every day wondering if it would be your last day in the timeline, and for that reason, you tried to make every moment count. When Sans went on jobs, you stayed in his house, and when he came home, he usually took you out on a date. He filled a closet with dresses for you to wear, and if you so much as looked at something in a window for a second too long, he bought it for you instantly. Sans spoiled you, but he also acted like every moment might be the last. There was never a moment where he didn't have a hand on you, a tether to make sure you were still there. Despite what he may have still thought, you'd never had an actual boyfriend before, and to think that _Sans_ of all people would be it, well.. it sent you over the moon.

He didn't ask about the other timelines, and he didn't want to know anything else about the Sans from your original time. So, you took the dancing Sans's advice to heart and didn't volunteer the information. Instead, you tried to bury your thoughts by wrapping yourself up in Sans any chance you got. You even embraced your exhibitionist side and took a trip to the bone zone in a restaurant bathroom! That was new and exciting, even if you both almost got caught.

The days turned into weeks, and Papyrus was still pointedly ignoring your existence. At first, you thought of the time when he impaled you with a bone in the other timeline, and you made sure to stay clear from him whenever possible. If he ever got home before Sans, you would retreat into Sans's bedroom and lock the door, and Papyrus wouldn't bother you. Sans and Papyrus seemed to have a better relationship now, but you could tell that your presence was putting a bit of a strain on it.. and you decided if you were going to make this timeline your new home, you needed to befriend Papyrus. 

_Besides.. it's only fair that he killed you. You killed him first._

Nope, don't think that. This is a guilt-free timeline, dammit.

One day, Papyrus was going out for groceries, and you stopped him at the door. 

"Hey, mind if I join you? I have a few things I want to pick up, too." You smile, trying to appear nonthreatening. Papyrus looks surprised, but suspicious. He glances from you to Sans, who's still sitting on the couch. Sans waves a dismissive hand; you had already cleared your plans with him, and he's fine with it. Papyrus still hesitates. You hold up a rather long list, filled with various bullshit you don't really need. "I mean, unless you'd rather pick all of this up yourself?"

He glances at the list and scowls. "YOU CAN PICK UP YOUR OWN GARBAGE, HUMAN! THE TERRIBLE PAPYRUS ISN'T YOUR ERRAND BOY!"

"That's why I'd like to go with you. Please?" You turn up your smile, and he huffs, stomping toward his car. 

"FINE! BUT SIT IN THE BACKSEAT! BEING SEEN WITH A WEAK HUMAN LIKE YOU WILL RUIN MY REPUTATION! THE LAST THING I NEED IS FOR MONSTERS TO THINK I HAVE SOME WEIRD HUMAN FETISH LIKE SANS!"

Every time that gets mentioned, you have to block out mental images of Sans with various human girls. Your smile becomes tight, but you comply and slip into the backseat. A smirk suddenly crosses your lips. "It feels like I have a chauffer this way."

Papyrus turns around to glare at you for a moment before he finally lets out a loud huff. "GET UP HERE THIS INSTANT!"

Victorious, you climb into the front seat and beam over at him. He pointedly ignores you and starts driving as recklessly as possible, his grip on the steering wheel iron-tight. You begin to worry about getting into a wreck and RESETing, so you don't bother distracting him for the remainder of the ride. However, you do steal a few glances at him, and like usual, you find yourself comparing him to the Papyruses from the other timelines. 

This one has so much sharper features, though he's dressed even better than his brother. His suit is immaculate, there's a single gold ring on each hand, and his cufflinks are even shaped like little golden bones. His gun is holstered at his waist for obvious visibility, unlike Sans who hides his on his back with a shoulder holster. Sans told you that the human weapons were actually less effective than magic. If they had to be used on another monster, it had less of a chance of dusting them--and since they were on the Surface, dusting monsters was frowned upon. Monsters had the common enemy in the humans to look out for, so they needed to band together. But, that didn't mean that monsters that got out of line got a free pass. Sans and Papyrus had the go-ahead from Overlord Don Asgore himself to use their own discretion when it came to dealing with such. 

Papyrus catches you staring. "WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT? HOW MUCH BIGGER MY GUN IS THAN SANS'S?"

His scowl actually lifts a little, looking almost like he wants to smirk, and you really want to ask him if that innuendo was purposeful just so you can tease him for having a human fetish. But, you actually kinda value your life in this timeline, so you don't push him. "I was just thinking you were dressed nice." Best to appeal to his ego; all Papyruses liked that.

This Papyrus has a massive ego, however; he doesn't even bat an eyesocket at the compliment. "THAT GOES WITHOUT SAYING! MY APPEARANCE REFLECTS MY SUCCESS! YOURS, ON THE OTHER HAND..." He gives you a sidelong glance and scoffs in distaste. "REFLECTS MY BROTHER'S HALF-SUCCESS AND THE FACT THAT YOU'RE A GOLD-DIGGER."

"E..excuse me?" Did you hear that right?

"YOU HEARD ME, HUMAN WHORE." Yep, you did.

Your face flushes with indignation. "I'm not after Sans's money!" 

"YES, I'M SURE THAT'S WHY HE'S BUYING YOU ALL SORTS OF NONSENSE, INCLUDING THE CLOTHES ON YOUR BACK. WITH HOW MUCH THE TWO OF YOU ARE CONSTANTLY RUTTING, IT'S OBVIOUS YOU'RE JUST ANOTHER ONE OF HIS EXPENSIVE WHORES!"

The fact that it's _Papyrus_ \--even this version of Papyrus--that's saying these things hurts. You feel your chest clench and your eyes feel hot, but they don't water. Instead, you insist, "That's not what it is at all, Papyrus. I know how it looks, but I'm not.."

"NOT HAVING MY BROTHER PROVIDE FOR YOU WHILE YOU DO NOTHING TO EARN YOUR KEEP?"

God dammit. Why can't you ever just _be_ for a little while? You know this isn't a permanent arrangement, but you're going to enjoy it a little longer before you start even thinking about what the future holds. So, you try to appeal to something Papyrus likes, find a common foothold to bond. 

"... Well, actually... I was hoping I could come along with you today so I could cook dinner for the two of you tonight."

This has thrown Papyrus for a loop. Sans has taken you out to dinner every night, and you're pretty sure Papyrus has stayed home every night to cook for himself. You know he's gotten better over the years thanks to actual cooking lessons instead of just throwing in whatever he felt like, so you're unsure if he'll actually let you in the kitchen. "... I SUPPOSE I COULD ALLOW YOU TO AID ME IN COOKING TONIGHT'S DINNER."

Well, that's progress at least.

The two of you actually get along in the grocery store. You're the only human in sight, but since you're with the massive Papyrus, no one even gives you a second glance. You're able to give him some insight into a few of the human brands they stock (FOR NOVELTY PURPOSES, Papyrus informs you), and you gather ingredients to make spaghetti instead of lasagna. Surprisingly, Papyrus has never had it. He talks about everything he's made during his cooking lessons, and you tell him about the glitter tacos. He thinks the idea of glitter in a taco is ridiculous. 

"But they were friendship tacos."

"WHAT PART OF GLITTER IN A TACO MAKES THEM FRIENDSHIP TACOS?"

"I think the glitter was supposed to be like.. wishing dust? To strengthen friendship?"

"OH _ASGORE'S BEARD!_ ARE YOU SERIOUS?" He looks so appalled that you start laughing. 

"Nah, I just made that up. It was actually just because he thought it looked cooler with glitter, I think."

Papyrus is stunned that you actually joked around with him; he's always up for a good jape or two. His expression softens a little. "WELL, IF YOU SAY THE GLITTER IS LIKE THE DUST OF YOUR ENEMIES INSTEAD, YOU COULD CALL THEM HATE TACOS!"

You laugh harder, and he actually smirks. "Hey, add some vinegar and they could be bitter hate tacos!"

"NOW YOU'RE ON THE RIGHT TRACK! IF WE FIND ANY EDIBLE GLITTER, WE'RE MAKING TACOS! HELL, IF WE FIND ANY REGULAR GLITTER, WE'LL MAKE TACOS AND FEED THEM TO OUR ENEMIES!"

"I threw up glitter the next day. I'd definitely recommend it for enemies-only."

You finish your shopping and the two of you return home in a much more amicable mood. Sans looked relieved that Papyrus didn't try to kill you, but he gives you both space as you head to the kitchen. You teach Papyrus how to make spaghetti, and it feels almost like the time you taught your Papyrus how to properly cook spaghetti on the Surface. He had seemed surprised that the noodles didn't _need_ to catch on fire, while this Papyrus just watches you with a careful intensity, humming in acknowledgement whenever you inform him of a step. 

He makes the garlic bread himself and fixes a salad to pair with it--both things he usually did for his lasagna. When both of you finish, Papyrus makes his plate without preamble and immediately tastes the spaghetti. While chewing thoughtfully, he stares at you with the same laser intensity he did throughout your cooking instructions. You start to get nervous and fidget. 

"WELL, LOOKS LIKE YOU'RE GOOD FOR SOMETHING AFTER ALL. FINE THEN. EVERY OTHER DAY, YOU MAY COOK DINNER TO EARN YOUR KEEP." You stare at him wide-eyed. "THAT WAY, YOU WON'T JUST BE A..." He trails off, noticing that Sans has appeared in the kitchen, idly coming to fix himself a plate.

"she won't just be a _what_ , boss?" he asks, the question casual but his expression rather intense and strained. 

Crap. If Sans and Papyrus start fighting, you know their relationship is going to go to hell in a handbasket, and it'll be because of you. The last time this happened, you had ended up **RESET** ing, and while that won't be the case this time, you want to keep the peace, as tenuous as it may be. 

"A freeloader." Both brothers turn to look at you, Papyrus's brow bones raised in surprise. You were covering for him, which he found unnecessary. "I was talking to Papyrus earlier about how I wanted to help out more. Since.. you know, I'm not really doing anything." You feel flustered, but at least that isn't a lie. You really should help out any way that you can if you plan on staying in this timeline from now on. 

"THAT'S RIGHT. YOUR LAZYBONES HABITS ARE EFFECTING THE HUMAN! SHE NEEDS TO DO MORE AROUND HERE!" Papyrus looks away, while shoveling more spaghetti into his mouth. 

Sans looks a little skeptical, but simply shrugs and continues dishing up his plate. "my lady ain't gotta do a damn thing around here if she don't want to, _capiche_.. boss?" Sans grins wider, his gold tooth sparkling, and Papyrus's eyesockets narrow. You silently plead that he doesn't push Sans. You know that Sans has the tendency to back down in front of Papyrus at times, but you're also aware that _you're_ the one thing he'll be completely stubborn over.

"CAPICHE? OH STARS, SANS, YOU'VE BEEN WATCHING TOO MANY OF THOSE HORRIBLE OLD HUMAN MOBSTER MOVIES! THE METTATON REMAKES ARE SO MUCH BETTER THAN THAT GARBAGE!"

You let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding.

"i don't see what ya like about that bucket o'bolts. he's always so dramatic." Sans pauses and gestures toward his brother with a piece of garlic bread. "wait, i do see why you like him.

"WHAT ARE YOU IMPLYING, BROTHER?"

"that you're a drama queen." 

Papyrus's eyelights boggled in opposite directions, and he proceeded to refute the claim as dramatically as possible. You found yourself grinning along with Sans, and the three of you ate your meal while standing around in the kitchen talking instead of actually going to sit at the table. It felt so normal in that moment, eating spaghetti and discussing Mettaton shows.

And it's in the normal moments that you felt the guilt of your sins begin to creep back in.

You could still feel the ghost of the memories clinging to you. You could see Sans lazily teasing his brother about the quality of the shows ("of course paps would defend mett; he's been watching mtt since his de- _boo_ "), while Papyrus would loudly defend his metallic idol and you'd end up standing between the brothers and laughing.

Just like now.

Only now they were sharp-toothed mobsters. You swallow the guilt down with another bite of spaghetti and lean against Sans. Papyrus stumbles over his next word, staring at you, but you ignore him and Sans slips his arm around your waist. He sets his plate on the counter and continues eating and talking without a second thought. Papyrus is a little more subdued, but after he finishes, he sets his plate in the sink and turns to you.

"YOU CAN START EARNING THAT KEEP BY CLEANING THE KITCHEN SINCE YOU COOKED." You don't argue even though he prepared half of the meal. "ALSO.. I.. IT'S STRANGE, BUT HAVE WE MET BEFORE?"

Welp, he now has Sans's full attention. "yeah, she's only been livin' here for goin' on a month now, pap."

"I KNOW THAT! I MEAN.. BEFORE THE NIGHT WITH THE PARTY, YOU IMBECILE!" Papyrus seethes, though returns to staring at you. "YOU JUST SEEM.. ODDLY FAMILIAR, BUT I CAN'T PUT MY FINGER ON IT."

Your mind is reeling. Does he mean from the other timeline, when he killed you? Or maybe when he caught a glimpse of you before you **RESET**? Or.. maybe from another..? But, no, he isn't the same Papyrus. It would have to be from one of those two encounters.

"Uh.. No, I think I would've remembered meeting you." The lie feels stiff, and Sans casts a careful glance at you from the corner of his eyesocket.

"... yeah, maybe you've seen her around? i met her a long time ago, but she.. uh, just recently came back to town. ya'know, after the district became a little safer." 

Papyrus looks a little disappointed when he looks at you. "AH, WELL THAT MAKES SENSE. I HAD A FEELING THAT WAS WHY." Why is he looking at you differently now? Does he think that.. Sans just confirmed you really were a whore? You open your mouth to retort, but Papyrus continues before you get a chance. "MAKE SURE THE DISHES ARE SPOTLESS! I EXPECT NOTHING LESS THAN PERFECTION IN THE KITCHEN!" 

Your throats a little tight, but you nod. "Y..yeah, no problem."

Papyrus turns around and heads to his bedroom with only a curt nod in response. Sans exhales and squeezes you to his side. "do you think he remembered when he...?" He trails off, unable to finish the rest of that sentence. 

"When he impaled me with a bone? Maybe. Now he thinks I'm some human whore you paid in the past, though. Some gold-digger." You sigh.

Sans's smile fades and he stiffens. "did that bastard say that--"

"He didn't have to," you quickly amend. "I just.. kinda wish his opinion of me was different. I thought I was changing it with the spaghetti."

Sans relaxes a little and presses a toothy kiss to your cheek. "it doesn't matter what he thinks. who cares? all that matters is you're here with me now." He sets down his fork and turns toward you to slip both arms around you. You set your plate down on the counter and smile a little. "'sides, i just realized somethin'."

"Hmm? What's that?" Your arms loop around his neck, and your fingers toy with the spinous processes of his vertebrae. He hums deep in his chest, leaning into your touch. By now, you know exactly what he likes. 

Sans loses track of his thoughts for a moment. "t..this is the first time i got to eat your home-cookin'." You're so surprised by the comment that your fingers go lax. "it was delicious." His fingers tighten on your hips, dragging you against him. "almost as delicious as you, darlin'." 

That actually gets a laugh from you, and he promptly lifts you up, turns, and sets you on the counter next to the dishes. When he starts to kneel, his hands slipping to your knees to push them apart, you grab his shoulders. "Papyrus is home," you whisper, glancing in the direction of his bedroom.

"so?" 

"So, we're out in the open!" Your face is actually red. Sans finds it adorable.

"paps probably wouldn't approve of you leavin' the kitchen in a mess, so.. ya'know, we probably shouldn't go anywhere." He pries your knees apart, but let's face it; you offered no resistance. Slowly, he slides to his knees, his eyelights holding your gaze. 

You're living for the moment. You spread your legs wider and when he smirks, you find yourself falling for that grin all over again. Turns out, you've still got an exhibitionist streak, and the fear of potentially getting caught only makes this hotter. Sans lifts up the hem of your dress, puts it over his head, and jerks you to the edge of the counter by your knees. You gasp and clutch at his shoulders to keep you balance, feeling your body grow hot when you feel his breath fan against your damp skin. 

"ya really wanted this, huh?" There's a shit-eating grin in Sans's tone, and you _shh_ him, still looking nervously over toward Papyrus's bedroom. Sans chuckles. " _bone_ -appetite."

"Sans, I swear to-- _ohhh._ " His tongue laps against you, and your hips buck forward so hard that you nearly fall off the counter. You curse under your breath and hold onto him, watching his skull move beneath your dress. There's something so strangely erotic about not being able to see him, about your body only being exposed to him. Your head leans back against the counter, while his fingers stroke the inside of your thighs. And damn, if his tongue isn't magical. Sans is a seasoned pro (does seasoned count as a food pun? You think about asking him, but then he slips a finger inside you, and you forget your own name), and you're writhing and breathing quickly within minutes. You try to be quiet, but you end up having to cover your own mouth with your hand and focus on your breathing. 

By the time he's finished with you, your legs are wobbly and you weren't as quiet as you think you were. Sans helps you clean the kitchen, and you try to concentrate on meeting Papyrus's standards of spotlessness, but it's difficult. You're back to being blissfully happy, even though the back of your mind keeps whispering _what about getting back to your timeline and making sure your friends make it back to the Surface?_

The thought keeps coming back, even after you both finish with the kitchen and head to the bedroom. You return the favor for Sans, teasing him with your mouth until he can barely stand it. When you simultaneously start squeezing his coccyx and sucking on his glowing red dick, he can't take it anymore and just has to have you. He starts off rough, but eases into something gentler, slower.. holding your gaze the entire time and calling you sweetheart. It stirs something in your SOUL and makes you want to cry, and afterward, you hold each other. His head rests on your bare chest, listening to the way your heart is rapidly beating as you come down from your sexual high, while you lightly stroke his ribs.

"Sans?" Your voice comes out thick and hoarse, and you have to clear your throat.

"mmm?" He sounds barely conscious.

"It took ten years for another human to fall, right..? What happened when they fell?"

That question from before is still burning in the back of your mind. Every time you start to think that you can be happy here, that you can just stay in this timeline, you think of the friends you betrayed. They're back in the Underground thanks to you, while you're on the Surface in another timeline. 

But, maybe.. if it was possible for this timeline to end up on the Surface without your help, it could be possible for your original timeline to do the same.

"what d'ya think, doll? we broke the barrier with their soul. it was the last one needed." He yawns, nuzzling further against your chest.

Well, you expected that. In your original timeline, too, there had been so many coffins in New Home. If it hadn't been for your DETERMINATION, you would have ended up in one of them, too. 

There would be other humans. You weren't their only hope. It was probably better in the long-run if you never made it back. 

..Nope, you weren't trying to justify your selfishness at all.

"Who... uh, took their SOUL?" you can't stop the query from tumbling past your lips. Sans simply shrugs, already beginning to doze off. He always has trouble staying awake when he's listening to your heart. "Papyrus?" He shakes his head. Your hand stills on his ribs. "...You?"

"who else?" You're both quiet for a moment, and he sighs. "i killed you on first sight, didn't i? i was a sentry.. and i, uh, was good at my job." 

Suddenly, you remember standing in the Judgement Hall across from Sans as grinned and casually stepped out from the shadow of a pillar. Chara had just LOADed. " _that look on your face.. heh, i must be pretty good at my job._ "

You suddenly wonder how many of those coffins were filled by Sans. 

Sans realizes that you haven't said anything in a while, and he drags his head up to look at you. "hey. i knew it wasn't you, so what'd it matter? i just wanted out of that hellhole. we all did."

"I know. And I'm glad you made it out." You offer him a lop-sided smile and kiss the top of his skull. His arms tighten around you, and he resumes listening to your heart.

There would be another human to break the barrier, yes. Another dead human. 

And that death would be on your hands. 

You don't sleep very well that night, despite how soft and inviting the bed is.

###### 

Another week passes. 

You've officially spent a month in this timeline, and you feel like life might be normal. You've been cooking and doing laundry, which Papyrus calls mundane housewife work. But, he's happy that you're at least doing something. You try to convince Sans to take you along on a job, but he denies the request so quickly that you decide you don't really want to know what's going on. When you wash his clothes, you can't tell if there's ash or dust on them, and you don't ask for a clarification. 

The only thing that would make this timeline perfect would be if you could actually go outside without one of them around. However, you don't want to risk another Grillby's incident, so you don't push your awful luck. You can't get a job in this district, but it's not like you need the money. You just don't really like the idea of living off Sans, despite how selfish your decisions have been. 

Not to mention, you get bored cooped up in the house. 

Papyrus has started watching Mettaton shows with you whenever Sans isn't around, but when both brothers are gone, you end up alone with your thoughts.. and you're the last person that needs to be alone with their thoughts. It makes you restless, like you should be _doing something_. It gets so bad that you practically jump Sans whenever he comes home, and you even convince him to blow off a job and stay in bed with you all day. 

When you're lying together in the afterglow, your skin pressed to his ribs as you exchange lazy kisses, you lean back and cup his cheekbone. "If something happens to me, and I end up in another timeline..."

Sans cuts you off. "ain't gonna happen, sweetheart." 

"But if it does."

"it won't." His tone leaves no room for argument, but you press on anyway.

"I don't want you to wait for me, if it does." He pulls his skull away from you hand to fully look at you. "I just want you to be happy, Sans."

"sweetheart, i'm happy with _you._ i don't ever want anyone else. monsters live a long time. thirty years was just a blink to me." You know it wasn't, but you don't argue. You also know he was with other girls in the span of thirty years, but you don't bring that up, either. That's not the point. 

"I'm just saying that if something happens.. just don't expect me to come back, all right? I'm pretty sure this was just some fluke. I can't control which timeline I end up in, so.."

His bony brow furrows. "where's this comin' from, doll? you're not plannin' on resetting..." His voice trails, and he holds your gaze steady. 

"No. No, no, no. Nothing like that. I was just thinking that this is a little too good to last, you know? This is the longest I've been in a timeline in a long time. And I just really feel sick at the idea of you searching through humans for me." 

"well, when you saw me, ya weren't sure it was _me_ either, right? since i hadn't been wearin' a suit before." 

You smile fondly, your fingertips stroking his sternum. "Yeah. I didn't expect you to become so well-dressed on the Surface." 

"so how about we come up with a phrase? didn't you have something about farts with other-me?" The fact that he brought up the original Sans surprises you; he hadn't mentioned him since he told you he'd make you forget any other version of him. 

"Yeah.. 'I am the Legendary Fart Master.'"

He nods, his phalanges sliding over the curve of your hip, just taking in the feeling of your soft skin. "so somethin' like that. somethin' we say when we think we're in the presence of the other, but ain't certain."

It sounds like a solid idea to you. You hum in the back of your throat, trying to come up with a good suggestion for a code phrase. "Maybe 'you're mine'?"

"nope. what if ya say it to someone that ain't me, and he thinks it's an invitation?" 

You grin. "Good point. Hm... 'The spaghetti is as delicious as you.'" You're just quoting him for the fun of it now.

Sans smirks, but shakes his head again. "nah, that comes across as another invitation."

"Fine. 'I am the Legendary Spaghetti Master.'"

His smirk fades slightly. "that's too close to the other one."

"So? You came up with--" 

You cut yourself off and catch your mistake immediately. So does Sans. 

" _i_ didn't. i'm not--" 

You're quick to interject and backpedal. "I know. I know. I didn't mean it like that." 

Both of you are silent for a while. Sans's perma-grin is a tight line and his eyesockets are dark. He's still holding you, but his hands have stilled, as have yours. 

You've ruined it, you've messed everything up, you basically just said you thought of him as the same as the other Sans, it's over, he'll never forgive you--

"i promise." 

His voice is deep and quiet, but it breaks you out of the beginnings of an existential crisis. "You.. promise what?" Your voice is barely audible.

"that's the code phrase. if ya think it's me, say those words. if he asks what you're promising, it's not me. if it's me, i'll just kiss ya." 

Your arms tighten around him, pulling his face to your neck. "And if you say it and it's me, I'll kiss you."

"that's the idea." 

You nod, your hands roaming his bones, content that he's still here--that your slip didn't make him go away for the night. "That's a pretty bright idea." The way you said it was an obvious set-up, and you run your thumb over the wing of his pelvis until you feel him relax against you and slide his tongue along your clavicle. 

"heh, that's not the only _bright_ thing about me." 

He takes the bait, and once again makes it his mission to make you forget about any other version of himself. 

It works for the night.

###### 

Another week goes by uneventfully, with the mishap over the code phrase forgotten. Sans and Papyrus both get home from a job at the same time one day, and after Sans gives you a quick kiss, his glances at your dress. "change into something a bit fancier, ok? we've gotta go out tonight."

You glance down at the simple black dress you were lounging in while you watched Mettaton's latest drama. You've gotten hooked on his trash daytime television. "Are we going somewhere special?"

"WE'RE GOING TO OVERLORD DON ASGORE'S MANSION PARTY, AND HE SPECIFICALLY REQUESTED THAT YOU APPEAR, HUMAN!" Papyrus crosses the living room, heading toward his bedroom. "WE ALL MUST CHANGE AND LOOK OUR BEST! EVEN SOMEONE AS GREAT AS I, WHO ALWAYS LOOKS HIS BEST, MUST PUT FORTH EXTRA EFFORT!"

That surprises you; you honestly don't see what Papyrus could do differently, but he disappears into his bedroom none-the-less. Sans shrugs. "it's a show of respect kinda deal. overlord asgore's gotten into the whole monster mafia thing big time. i don't really like this."

"Are you worried?"

Sans shook his head and slipped his hands into his pockets. You knew that was somewhat of a nervous habit by now. "nah. i mean, i could refuse to take ya, but then he'd send his goons after us, and it'd be a hassle always havin' to look over our shoulders for monsters to dust. might as well play by his rules. just slip into somethin' fancy and stay by my side all night, ok?"

You nod, standing from the couch to kiss away his worries. You keep kissing him until the tension falls from his shoulders and he finally pulls his hands out of his pockets to frame your face. "Don't worry. I know just the dress." You pull back to retreat to the bedroom and select a dress from your fully-stocked walk-in closet. The gown is a dark crimson with black trim swirling designs reminiscent of rose petals around the hem and bodice. It's form fitting with a plunging neckline and a small train that trails behind you as you walk. Sans bought it after watching you admire it on a mannequin, but you'd never had a fancy enough occasion to wear it, so this party is opportunity you'd been waiting on. 

You fix your hair, put on some bright red lipstick, and step out of the closet to find Sans changing jackets and cuff-links. His, like Papyrus's, are little silver bones. He's got a new fedora, and most of his attire is now black, aside from the deep wine-red pocket square elaborately folded in his jacket, his matching red tie, and the red band around his fedora. "You look like you're going to a funeral."

He gives you a dead-pan stare, but then tries to lighten up a bit when you smile. "yeah, well.. the whole 'wear black' custom is really just a human thing, but i have a feelin' if i showed up to a funeral like this, the humans would think i was some sorta zombie." 

You grin at the mental image. "You think they'd double-check the coffin?"

"they'd be too busy runnin' for the hills. i got that a lot when we first made it to the surface. i heard the word zombie so many times that i had to finally watch some horror flicks." 

You come over to straighten his tie. "You actually watched them?" So did the other-Sa... _Nope, not gonna go there right now._ "What did you think?"

He scoffs, sliding a couple more rings on his fingers to complete his look. "wasn't impressed. me an' paps are much scarier than some brain-dead corpse shamblin' around, tryin' to eat someone's brain. which.. i didn't really get. is that supposed to make 'em smarter or what?"

You shrug. "I think they eat any part of the body in the newer movies."

"still stupid. they're husks. if anything, they should've been goin' after souls." 

"SOULs weren't known as an actual thing until monsters showed up, though."

"that's another thing that blew my mind. how can you not--" 

"HURRY UP! WE MUST BE PROMPT, AND YOU TWO SLACKERS ARE NOT GOING TO BRING ME DOWN WITH YOU!" Papyrus cut off the zombie/SOUL rant, and you and Sans both shake your heads. Sans laces his fingers with yours, and the three of you pile into Papyrus's car to head to the mansion.

###### 

They weren't kidding when they told you to change. 

You would've been embarrassed if you had gone in that simple dress; everyone here is dressed to the nines. The mansion is the biggest you've seen, and the inside is filled with egotistical golden décor ranging from statues to tridents to.. bouquets of golden flowers. At least some things never change. 

There are monsters everywhere, most of them with guns holstered in plain sight, and almost all of them with some sort of arm candy. Speaking of, there are actual humans here, though most of them seem to fit the gold-digging whore label that Papyrus had slapped on you weeks ago. They're showing off more cleavage that you and pressing themselves a little too close to whatever monster mobster they have their eye on, practically draping themselves over them. 

Or maybe you're being judgmental like Papyrus? 

"I.. see there's humans here," you murmur to Sans. He shrugs.

"overlord don asgore runs a human whorehouse. humans're still pretty exotic, so it interests a lot of his men.. and gets him quite a bit of cash from the monsters in the city." 

Welp, turns out you weren't just being judgey. 

"Oh." You have to reel in your thoughts before you start to wonder which of these lucky girls won a trip to the bone zone in the past. Sans's grip tightens on your arm as he steers you through the mansion, with Papyrus leading the way to cut through the crowd. Asgore even has an open bar.. in his house. You begin to wonder if every day is a party here, and what happened between him and Toriel. You would've asked Sans (you had asked Papyrus about Undyne and Alphys one day, and he said they were a definite item), but you were still avoiding the topic of her around him and Papyrus didn't even know who she was. 

You didn't really know how this version of Asgore would act, either. Sans's usual grin is tight, even though you could tell he's trying to have a relaxed expression, and that worries you. Various mobsters slap him on the shoulder as he passes, calling out greetings, and he responds back in kind. Likewise, the escorts also touch his jacket, and you try to glare them away while he shrugs away from their hands. Yeah, you want to get out of here as quickly as possible, too.

You wind up ascending a ridiculous marble staircase. The rails are gold and polished to a bright shine, and their height seems like wasted space in this wing of the mansion to you. There are two massive ornate doors with embossed Delta Rune symbols at the top of the landing, and two buff Aaron mobsters are both flanking the doors and flexing in their suits. When they spot your trio, they flex so hard that the sleeves of their jackets start to rip at the seams and Papyrus looks appalled. 

"CONTROL YOURSELVES AND OPEN THE DOORS. WE HAVE AN AUDIENCE WITH THE DON!" 

One of them smirks, posing while he flexes. "Sure you don't want to have a flex-off?" 

You remember countless encounters where you flexed your way past Aarons as a child, and there's a part of you that wants to rise to the occasion. But this isn't the time or place and Papyrus steps forward, looming above the already-massive monsters by several inches. Despite the fact that he has literally no muscular definition, he radiates a power they don't have. "I'M. SURE."

They both break their poses, clear their throats, and wordlessly open the doors. Papyrus straightens both his tie and fedora (although neither needed straightening because he always looks immaculate) and enters. You and Sans trail behind. "remember, sweetheart. stay with me," Sans murmurs beneath his breath, and you nod. 

Asgore is seated in a massive throne at the end of the room, surrounded by yellow flowers. You feel almost as if you're walking into his castle Underground, and you half-expect him to tell you to think of the encounter like going to the dentist. You eyes start to burn at the sight of him, and you didn't realize how much you missed your father figure until this very moment. 

Oh, he would be so disappointed in you.

This version of him holds himself to his full height, which is enormous compared to the way your Asgore always slouched to appear smaller and more non-threatening. He's dressed in a perfectly-tailored suit, with a long cape wrapped around his shoulders, along with a bright gold crown atop his head to keep his status as ~~King~~ Overlord. A red Delta Rune is embroidered onto the front pocket. He looks older, if that's possible, with streaks of gray in his beard and hair. There's also a jagged scar running down the right side of his face, making the corner of his mouth permanently drawn upward in a sneer. That eye is cloudy and discolored, and your chest clenches when you wonder if he's blind in that eye.

Shit, you're staring. 

...Did he notice?

Yep, sure did. He's staring just as hard at you.

Papyrus crosses an arm over his chest and bows slightly at the waist, his head lowered in respect. "OVERLORD DON ASGORE. ALWAYS A PLEASURE TO SERVE YOU, YOUR MAJESTY. THANK YOU FOR HAVING US." Well, that was polite for this Papyrus. Sans lingers several steps back with you, giving Asgore a curt nod.

The royal nods in return, gesturing with one hand for the two of you to come closer. "Yes, you brothers always serve me well. I've heard nothing but favorable reports from both of you."

"so then, what is it you wanted to see us about?" Sans decides to cut to the chase, while the two of you slowly approach Papyrus's side. 

"I have heard rumors of a girlfriend, Sans.. A human one. I wanted to see her for myself, see what makes her so special to you." Asgore leans forward on his throne, staring directly at your face. You feel transparent, but as much as you want to hide behind the skelebros, you hold your chin up high and smile.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Don Asgore," you state evenly even though your nerves are fluttering wildly in your stomach. "You have a lovely home. The decorum is really something else." Sans's grip tightens on you, and Asgore raises a bushy brow.

"Really, Human? Tell me, what part of my décor do you like the most?" 

Your answer is immediate. "The golden flowers." Something changes in Asgore's expression; it softens and almost looks like your Asgore. You know that this version of him kept the golden flowers around, so there's a parallel between him and your father figure. A memory of the children he lost? Your eyes are still burning when he looks into them, and your throat feels tight when you continue. "They're beautiful. And they take so much care to get to bloom, but when they do.. it's worth it."

"Yes.. yes, you're right about that, Human." Asgore clears his throat, tearing his gaze away from you, toward Sans. "I didn't realize your human was a gardener."

"yeah, well uh.. she's just _budding_ with surprises." Sans is still tense and his eyelights flicker to you. You just keep smiling. 

"She reminds me of someone from long ago." Toriel? Asriel? The first of the fallen children..? None of you press him for answers, so he just shakes his head. "That's not all I called you here for, skeletons. I have some business to discuss, so Sans, you may leave your human to the party in the meantime."

"respectfully, i have to insist--" 

"That wasn't a suggestion." Asgore's tone is clipped, all remnants of that soft expression disappearing. You can feel the magic vibrating just beneath the surface of Sans's bones, ready to be unleashed, and you turn to place your palm on his chest. 

_Don't_ , you mentally plead. If he fights here, Asgore's men would intervene. You'd both end up on the run, and Papyrus can't teleport. It would be suicide. 

Thankfully, Papyrus is the one to speak up. "YOUR DONSHIP, I BELIEVE MY BROTHER IS JUST CONCERNED THAT THE OTHERS MAY MISTAKE OUR HUMAN AS ONE FROM.. YOUR BUSINESS."

"Ah, not one for sharing, hmm, Sans?" Asgore smirks, leaning back on his throne. 

"not particularly. like to keep what's mine, _mine_." Sans grins wide, but it looks almost as if he's baring his teeth in a threat to you. 

"No problems there, my boy. We'll just let her spend some time with my girls in the back room, away from my men. She could probably use some time with her own kind, anyway. I hear you've been keeping a pretty tight leash on her." Asgore chuckles, and Sans's expression darkens. The royal claps his hands together and two girls emerge from an adjoining room, both looking stunning in their dresses. You think that you recognize one of them from the Liberation Day party--the girl that had been looking to go home with Sans. 

Yeah, you'd rather do anything else but spend 'girl time' with whores that your lover has boned, but you can tell that you don't have a choice in the matter. This isn't _sticking close to Sans_ like the plan, but at least you won't be potentially grabbed by one of the drunken mobsters downstairs. 

"i still--" 

"I'll be fine. Just focus on your business, Sans," you interject before Asgore can become angry. Sans flat-out scowls at you as you pull your arm from his. You lean in and kiss him right on the teeth in front of everyone. Papyrus draws in a sharp breath through his nasal cavity like he wants to say something, and when you pull away, the girls' smiles look much more forced. Sans still hasn't really relaxed.

"ok. it'll just be a second, sweetheart." 

You squeeze his shoulders and lightly touch Papyrus's arm on your way by, trying to assuage whatever discomfort your PDA just caused him. The girls introduce themselves and lead you out the door and down the hallway. 

"Your Sans's girl?" One of them asks as soon as you're out of earshot of the monsters. You nod, and she laughs. "No wonder he hasn't been calling! I was wondering if he had gotten bored!" 

Well, this is uncomfortable. 

The other one--the one from the first night--chimes in. "I know what you mean! I started to worry that something happened to him on a job." 

"He gives the best tips. Like, definitely overpays."

"Half the time, I felt like I should've been paying him! Not like with these other monsters."

"Yeah, even the fact that he's a skeleton should've been weird, but it's not."

"Right? He knows his way around the human anatomy."

Are they just trying to get under your skin or what? You're gritting your teeth and politely smiling and nodding, but you kind of want to fight them. They both look a bit alike, although one's taller and curvier than the other and their eye color and skin shade is different. However, they both have the same color hair as you in the same length, and the same basic body build. 

Should that lessen the blow? Because it doesn't.

"Yeah, yeah, my Sans is quite the attentive lover," you comment through clenched teeth. Your smile is so fake that it looks like when Sans was practically baring his teeth at Asgore earlier. "So you guys work in a _whorehouse_ for Asgore, huh? That must be _fun_." 

They both exchange looks and mirror your fake smile. "Oh yes, we're grateful for our lucrative jobs," one of them answers, and the three of you fake niceties all the way to the next room. It looks like some sort of breakroom for the girls--there's a few others, all sitting around or fixing their hair and make-up. Your personal escorts lead you to a table with some snacks and tea. You join them, even though you'd literally rather be anywhere else. 

"So, tell me.. who do _you_ work for?" The girl from the first night asks as she pours you some tea. 

"Me? I don't work for anyone. I mean, I do some things about the house for Sans and Papyrus, so I guess there's that."

"Oh, come on. No one believes that. You can't just come out of nowhere and start sleeping with someone like _Sans_ and not be working for someone." She sets some sweets on a plate in front of you to go with the tea. "There's been a bit of human trafficking in the districts by monsters trying to undercut Asgore, but it _never_ works."

"Well.. that's not what happened with me. I just.. uh, met Sans a long time ago, and we recently reconnected."

The girl looks skeptical, and you hide your terrible poker face behind the teacup while you drink some of it. 

"Uh huh. A long time ago, huh? What, when you were _ten_?" 

"Yeah, something like that." You shrug, just going with the lie. It throws her off for a moment, before she waves a well-manicured hand dismissively toward you. 

"If you don't want to tell me, that's fine. I have a feeling it's Muffet, anyway. That greedy bitch is always trying to turn some quick cash, and right now, humans are the big business."

Okay, so you could actually totally see Muffet as a Madame. "I'm not a whore," you insist, looking the girl straight in the eye. It's the truth. Even if Papyrus may have thought you were one of them--which makes total sense now that you know these were the girls Sans enjoyed in his evenings--you were never a whore. "I'm Sans's lover. I love him, and he loves me. You don't have to understand, but that's what it is."

You shrug, taking another sip of your tea. It's really good, and you're suddenly really thirsty. The girl is watching you intently, seeming surprised by your answer.

"If you're not a whore, what are you then? A gardener?" Now you look confused, and your face feels hot. "I overheard your conversation with Don Asgore. You like golden flowers, huh? You know his favorite tea is golden flower tea?"

Yeah, you did know that actually. But you feign ignorance because you're not _supposed_ to know that in this timeline. "Oh? Isn't that what this tea is?" 

She nods, a smirk suddenly crossing her lips. You set down your finished cup. Man, that tea was good. You're still so thirsty. 

"You're right. It's made from the seeds and stems of the flower."

The lights seem a little bright in here for a breakroom. There's nothing relaxing about these lights.

"But.. do you know what would happen if you made if with the petals, too?"

Her smirk is so malicious, and she won't be still long enough for you to fix her with a glare. Is she suggesting..?

Your mouth moves, but your tongue feels like it's a giant cotton ball. If you had something to drink, it'd be so much easier to get the words out. "It.. would be... poisonous..."

She laughs. "Oh, look! You really _must_ be a gardener."

Your head hits the table. It's too heavy to lift. You can't even raise your arms to strangle the bitch.

"W...why..?"

She leans in, brushing your hair away from your cheek. "I'm more than just someone who works at Asgore's _whorehouse_ , you stupid little girl. I collect information, I keep tabs on the mobsters, and I bring so much money to the Don." She taps your nose. "You were interfering with business... and you were also making Sans slack. He missed work some days, he'd leave early, and there were even rumors that he was looking into moving to another district.. and for someone as _valuable_ as Sans.. well, that's just not possible."

You want to tell her that it would never work, that Sans would kill them all for killing you, but.. you know that he won't get the chance. Everything is starting to fade, and it's all going to be...

Wait. You SAVED! You SAVED the first night! You made sure of it! 

Sure, you're going to lose over a month, but if Sans still remembers it, then it doesn't matter. You can tell him about this, and the two of you can leave--or hide your relationship if you have to. You'll figure it out later. 

The girl is starting to fade into a morph of color before your eyes, but you manage two more words.

"...Fuck... you."

She picks your head up by the back of your hair, and you see her bright red lips curve into a bright smile. 

Then, she slams your head against the table and everything goes black.

###### 

**LOAD. LOAD. LOAD. LOAD.**

You've never concentrated on anything as hard as you have in this moment.

_Please._

Slowly, the blackness fades away, and a scene comes into view. There are stars above your head, bright lights lining the streets, and well-dressed monsters celebrating all around you. You breathe a sigh of relief, a watery laugh rippling up in your chest. You did it! You were able to **LOAD** your SAVE! Now, you just have to tell Sans...

Wait. Something's wrong.

No one is moving. It's like a movie frame caught on pause. You can move freely, but everyone else is frozen in place. 

And Sans is nowhere to be found.

He was supposed to be walking just in front of you, if you remember correctly. He should have been _right there_. 

"Sans! Sans, hey! Can you hear me!"

It's completely silent. You start running through the crowds, weaving between monsters that may as well be statues. Nothing in this world should ever be this quiet. 

"Sans! Please, Sans! Where are you?!"

Your voice is coming out high-pitched and hysterical. No. No, this can't be happening. You were supposed to **LOAD** back; that's the entire reason you made certain you SAVED in this timeline. This is supposed to be your new home. 

It can't all be taken away again. It can't. 

" _Please!_ "

You're crying now, nearly hyperventilating. He's not here. He's nowhere. 

The world ripples around you. Monsters invert their positions in a blink of the eye, then right themselves. The stars begin to look like static.

_No. Not yet._

"SANS!"

*Nobody came.

You take another step, and the world starts to crumble away, piece by piece. You spin around, and it's coming apart all around you. Distantly, you can hear the sounds of the celebration starting up, but you never reach that part of the world. 

Everything is dark, except for one glowing option before you.

**RESET**

It's still messed up, pieces of the button missing and reappearing, static flashing through the cracks and over bits of the button. There's a spot where the **LOAD** button should have been, but it's just a faint shadow of static. You bring your hand up to that spot, but nothing happens. 

Could the same thing happen to the **RESET** button eventually?

You realize that you no longer have the option to SAVE. Any death that occurs in a timeline will result in a **RESET** , and you'll be thrust into another timeline. You should be crying and screaming and mourning the loss of your Sans--of the Sans that truly loved you and would have done anything to make you happy, but you're... you're just numb.

What's the point of getting worked up over something you can't change? Didn't Sans once say in the Judgement Hall, _"i gave up trying to go back a long time ago?"_ It feels fitting now.

You remain staring at the **RESET** button for ages, remaining idle. You had been complacent for well over a month in that timeline, enjoying a life that could have been--a _what if_ from another life. But you knew that it would all eventually come to an end. In a hostile timeline like that, it was only a matter of time. You had assumed you would go out in a hail of gunfire one day, but poison? Well, that was unexpected. 

Time to move forward and find out where you end up next. 

You draw in a deep breath, wipe the tear tracks from your cheeks, and touch the glitching button. 

It glows bright, overtaking your entire vision, and when it fades, you realize you're standing in a shed.. the skelebros' shed.

A rancid smell overwhelms you immediately, and you cover your nose with your sleeve. You're back to wearing a sweater-dress and boots instead of your fancy dresses from before. There's dark stains in the shed and glass containers of things you can't quite place, but it smells like something rotting. 

Suddenly, the door slams open, letting in a blast of freezing Snowdin air. You whirl around just in time to catch the surprised stare of the skeleton before you.

A single red eyelight, expanded into a rather large iris in his left eyesocket, is staring at you in complete shock. On the same side of his skull, there's a massive, jagged crack, as if someone took a sledge hammer and tried to break it open like a piñata. Your breath catches--you've only met one red-eyed Sans, and it was the same one in both timelines! Maybe he somehow made his way into this one, even if he's wearing that trademark blue coat instead of the black one with the fur trim from before. 

"I.. I... I promise..." You can barely get the code phrase out. You're trembling.

Something heavy hits the floorboards with a _thud_ that rattles the jars on the shelves. You glance toward the sound to find that Sans dropped a rather menacing-looking femur bone with the end shaped like an ax. It's covered in dark crimson, and upon further inspection, you notice that his shirt is also covered in old, reddish stains.

Ketchup..? 

_Please let that be ketchup._

"promise? heh. kiddo, we both know i don't make promises." His voice is deep, but it lacks all of the gruff undertone from the previous Sans. No, this voice is smoother, even more familiar than Mob!Sans's voice. He steps closer, shrugging lightly. "well, not anymore."

Another step closer, casual and unhurried. You find yourself taking a step back. 

"i do have to _ax_ you a question, though, pal." 

His skull tilts to the side and his smile seems too wide--manic, even. The phalanges of one hand raise to cup the side of his head, then they scrape along the side of his face unnervingly loud. The tips of two fingers hook around his empty eyesocket, delving into it and pulling at the rim. 

Your back hits the wall of the shed, and you gulp.

Sans stops in front of you, and his eyelight is level with your gaze. He reaches out with his free hand and grips your chin, tilting your head this way and that as he examines you. This close, you can tell he smells metallic and musty, but also like the Snowdin forest. 

He breaths in deep and his grip tightens on your chin.

"why would you _ever_ come back here?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys had to know this was coming. I mean, for a fanfic about the Reader sinning her way through the AU's, she's technically only boned one AU version of Sans. But hey, look at the bright side! Horrortale is up, and I'm beyond excited to tie that into the past timelines. 
> 
> Also, I have a new fic with a reverse-harem filled with skelebros, so if living in a massive lodge with a bunch of skelebros from AUs is your jam, check out [Skeletal Squatters and the Landlady](). I promise the Reader isn't as selfish as this one.
> 
> And, I'm [trying out tumblr now maybe. ](https://tyranttortoise.tumblr.com/) No idea what I'm doing, but eh.


	10. *you're in a horror-ble place, pal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The monsters are starving, and times look bleak, but at least Papyrus is still a sweetheart through it all.   
> Sans, on the other hand.. well, he's given up on right and wrong. 
> 
> *You discover what happened to your _real_ original timeline.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Horror!Sans will always be one of my favorite Sanses.   
> Nothing like a 2AM update. 
> 
> Horrortale belongs to [Sour Apple Studios](http://sour-apple-studios.tumblr.com/), and you should look at their stuff. The latest animated chapter has Sans with--well, just watch it!

"why would you _ever_ come back here?"

His question takes a moment to sink in, and you don't understand. Come back? You have no idea what timeline you're in, but you've never seen Sans with a giant crack in his skull like that. Not to mention, the single enlarged pupil is a bit on the unnerving side.. and completely focused on you. 

"I.. I don't.." Too much has happened--you died, **LOAD** ed, were cast away from your lover _again_ \--and you can't seem to form coherent words. Besides, this Sans looks terrifying, and the tips of his phalanges are biting into your chin. You wince. He chuckles, the sound humorless, and finally releases his grip.

"here i thought i was the forgetful one." His hands slip into his jacket pockets, and he rocks back on his heels. "c'mon, i know you know who i am, buddy."

"Sans." The answer's automatic. Of course you know that much. But which Sans is he? 

His eyesockets close momentarily, and he hums in the back of his throat. "see, you do remember. here i was starting to think i was mistaking you for someone else. i mean, you look different now, kid." His eyes are open again, and that single pupil rolls across your body, lingering on your curves. "though you're not much of a kid anymore, huh?"

You're still so confused. Not a kid anymore? How can that be? The only timelines where you went through the Underground as a child were the ones where you broke the barrier and where you.. weren't exactly yourself. That couldn't be. 

"I.. I'm a bit confused, Sans. Sorry," you manage, trying not to stare at the jagged, gaping hole in the top of his skull, yet your gaze keeps getting drawn there anyway. It's just.. unsettling. Everything here is. The smell of the shed, the mysterious stains, the fact that Sans had been carrying a _bone ax_. What the hell is going on here? 

"happens to all of us, pal," he says with a simple shrug that's still completely Sans. 

"SANS! SANS ARE YOU ALREADY HOME?!" Papyrus's voice is suddenly heard from toward the house. "ARE YOU OUT IN THE SHED AGAIN? DID YOU FIND ANYONE GOOD?"

Find.. anyone? You look from the direction of the voice to Sans, but he just shrugs again. "welp, don't you wanna see paps? c'mon kid, just don't.. uh, don't be surprised if things have changed around here. in fact.." He shrugs off his jacket suddenly and throws it over your head. You shriek a little, and he yanks it over your shoulders and throws up the hood. "keep your head down." 

With that, he grabs your arm and jerks you forward. You stumble a couple of steps, but are forced to walk along with him--and it's not like you want to stay in the shed, anyway. He leaves the ax on the floor, and you try to get a better look at it when you walk past.. and yeah, you're convinced those old stains are blood. But who's blood? Your heart feels like it's going to explode in your chest. 

Your feet hit the snow, and you clutch his jacket tighter around your frame. It smells pretty gross, but beneath it all is still the same must you always attributed to the scent of Sans's bones. Skeletal fingers pull the hood down further over your face, and he pulls you to his side, but you still glimpse the sight of the Snowdin road. It still looks exactly the same as it did in your original peaceful timeline. You can even see the multi-hued lights strung up on the skelebros' house casting little ovals of color across the snow. 

The door opens and Sans pulls you inside. As soon as the door shuts behind him, you pull the hood from your face. "What was that all about--"

The question dies in your throat the moment Papyrus walks out of the kitchen. 

"Papyrus.."

His name is barely spoken above a whisper. Your eyes are watering, and you clamp a hand over your mouth. His visage swims in front of you, distorting through your tears, but you can still see the differences.. The younger skelebro is now so much taller than you remember. In fact, he has to bend his neck to keep from hitting his skull on the doorframe when he crosses into the living room. His battle body outfit is still the same, if not a little more tattered, with pieces haphazardly sewn back into place or patched over. But the most chilling difference is his face. His teeth are jagged, some broken apart, some overlapping or awkwardly spaced, and all of them are stained a rusted red. 

"OH SANS!" Papyrus gasps, hurrying toward you, his gloved hands clasped together. "YOU CAPTURED A HUMAN! WELL DONE, BROTHER! I WAS AFRAID I WASN'T GOING TO BE ABLE TO MAKE MY SPECIAL SPAGHETTI TONIGHT!" He leans down, bending his back awkwardly to be eye-level with you. "TELL ME, HUMAN, WHAT MANNER OF MY PUZZLES DID YOU FALL VICTIM TO? I'LL NEED TO PROPERLY DOCUMENT IT! OH AND CAN YOU RATE YOUR EXPERIENCE FROM A SCALE OF 'INCONVENIENT' TO 'WORST EXPERIENCE OF MY LIFE'?"

You blink and the tears building in your eyes slip down your cheeks. You're still holding a hand over your mouth, and now your shoulders are shaking. This is your sweet Papyrus, not the gruff one you had been trying to befriend last month, but this is a version of the sweetheart that always believed in you. He's obviously taken some serious abuse and been used as someone's punching bag. Who would do this to him? And how could Sans just let it happen?

You glance back to Sans's head wound. Well, of course he didn't just _let it happen_. It looks like he barely made it out with his life, and you're surprised the blow alone wasn't enough to dust him.

"UH.. IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH THE HUMAN, SANS?" Papyrus is starting to actually look concerned, and you shake your head, trying to find your voice.

"don't you recognize her, bro?"

"HMM..." Papyrus puts a glove to his chin and examines you closely. In fact, his face is so close to yours that you can smell his breath, and whatever it is that's stained his teeth smells like death. "YOU DO LOOK A BIT FAMILIAR." Suddenly, he gasps and jerks back, his eyesockets wide. He actually stumbles back a couple of steps. "YOU.. YOU AND I WENT ON A DATE, DIDN'T WE?" 

Did you? What timeline is this? How do these versions of the skelebros already know you?

"Y..yeah, we did," you manage to speak around the lump in your throat. Sans is watching you carefully, while perched on the armrest of the couch. "It's so good to see you again, Papyrus.."

Papyrus gasps, his eyesockets shining. "IT'S GOOD TO SEE YOU, TOO!" He grasps you by the shoulders, bending awkwardly at the waist again to be eye-level with you once more. "YOU LOOK DIFFERENT NOW! ALL GROWN UP!" He sounds almost proud, and for a moment, you think of your Papyrus.. the one that called you every day to check on you and regularly drove you around in his sports car just for the fun of it. The tears start coming faster, but you give him a watery smile.

"You're taller now, Paps."

He beams at his. "I KNOW! I THOUGHT I WAS DONE GROWING, BUT IT TURNS OUT, I WASN'T! EVEN SANS GAINED A FEW INCHES! IT MIGHT HAVE SOMETHING TO DO WITH OUR DIET, THOUGH." You quirk a brow, and suddenly, Papyrus looks nervous. He starts to get shifty-eyed. "UH, BUT THAT'S NOT IMPORTANT!! WHAT'S IMPORTANT IS THAT YOU'RE BACK! NOT THAT WE DON'T APPRECIATE THE VISIT, BUT YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE COME BACK HERE!" 

He seems to be waiting for your explanation, and Sans even sits up straighter to stare at you. "I.. uh, I didn't really have a choice." 

"YOU FELL AGAIN?" Papyrus seems troubled, but you jump on this explanation and nod. "YOU REALLY NEED TO BE MORE CAREFUL! HAVE YOU EATEN? I WAS JUST ABOUT TO MAKE DINNER. I CAN, UH.. MAKE NORMAL SPAGHETTI." He looks over at Sans as he says it, and the two seem to share some kind of meaningful look. You don't really get it.

"Sure, it's been forever since I've had your spaghetti." You wipe your face with the heels of your hands, and he becomes excited over the prospect of cooking for you. 

"I'LL GET STARTED RIGHT AWAY!" He shouts as he vanishes back into the kitchen. You can hear him softly "Nyeh heh heh'ing" in his excitement. 

When you turn, Sans is still staring at you. He slides back until he slips off the armrest and onto the cushion of the couch and pats the spot beside him. "c'mon and take a load off, pal. it'll be a bit before the food's ready." You sit down, and he turns the TV on, but.. there's nothing but static. He turns the volume up a little bit, and you suppose it's so Papyrus doesn't overhear the two of you. Before he can speak, however, you shrug off his jacket and hand it back to him. His white T-shirt is so stained up with red and various other stains that you'd much rather see him wearing his coat again. 

He wordlessly takes the jacket and slips it back on. "so, kid. you fell down here again, huh?"

You may as well roll with the lie now. "Yeah, I did." 

"and just happened to end up in our shed with no footprints leading in or out in the snow, past a town filled with monsters that would be happy to kill you?" Wait, _what?_ "do you really think i'm gonna _fall_ for that?"

"What do you mean, they'd be happy to kill me?" You ignore the fact that he's calling you out on your lie. 

"i mean exactly what i said. so why don't you tell why you're back? did you come to save us? is this some kind of redemption arc? 'course, i don't remember a lot of what happened back then, but i know that _undick_ took over because monsters rallied behind her hate for humanity." You start to pale. Undick? Is he talking about.. Undyne? "asgore disappeared after you left, and so did all the human souls. there aren't any anymore, so if you're lookin' to break the barrier.. you're out of luck. you're trapped here with the rest of us, i guess, unless you wanna go dust a boss monster or somethin'. but those are few and far between these days.. and i mean, as much as i want undick dead, someone has to be in charge of this hellhole, and it's not really my thing."

Your mind is reeling. "What are you talking about, Sans? Undyne is ruling the Underground now?" Your Undyne--the same one that called you punk and ended up being your PE teacher for a while? Why would Sans ever want her dead?

"unfortunately. things.. uh, haven't been so great here. i feel like i told you about this at some point.. or maybe i didn't." He shrugs. "who knows?"

Is he talking about when he called you and left a voicemail? You can't really remember the details of the phone call now. You had simply latched on to his _don't give up, wherever you are_ , and you had become filled with DETERMINATION to save all of them. But, you had **RESET** that timeline. So.. did that mean this was supposed to be _that_ timeline? The original one, where you failed to befriend Undyne and you may have dusted some of the more aggressive monsters when you couldn't find another way around them? 

Was this your _original_ -original Sans? Was that even possible?

"So.. I left through the barrier, Asgore disappeared.." He was killed by Flowey, you remember, but don't mention aloud. "...and Undyne took over? What about.. Toriel?" You're scared to ask, but you do anyway. 

"overthrown and banished to the ruins. i wouldn't visit her if i were you, bucko. she's kinda.. lost it. i made the mistake of telling her about some of the things going on out here, and well.. you could say her life's in _ruins_ now. heh." He actually chuckles, and you stare in surprise. Sans never made dark jokes like that, especially not about his friends. 

"Lost it..?" He doesn't elaborate, and you wrap your arms around yourself, pulling your legs up onto the couch. "I don't understand. I.. yeah, I got your voicemail, and--"

"oh, i called ya?" He sounds surprised.

"Yeah. And, well.. I.. I wanted to try again. To do things better. So, I **RESET** , and I took my time, and I _did_ do things better.. so much better. So why..?"

Sans turns to fully face you, his back against the couch's armrest now. "i feel like i should know what you're talking about, but i don't."

What? He's the only one that ever knew what you meant by the **RESET** s. Well, besides Flowey. " **RESET** , Sans. I restarted the timeline. It shouldn't be like this anymore, unless.." You trail off, thinking of the glitched **RESET** button. Did that cause this, or has this timeline been existing parallel to the other ever since you **RESET**? If anyone would know, it would be Sans, except..

"timelines? what're you talkin' about, kiddo?"

Except that Sans seems to have forgotten a few things. "You don't know what I'm talking about? But, with your science background, you always--"

"oh. yeah, about that. y'see, that part's been wiped out, except bits and pieces. everything before the accident is kinda jumbled. your time down here included." He shrugs. "no problems remembering exactly what happened after, though, as much as i wish i didn't sometimes." 

You're crestfallen. If this is your original-original Sans, the very first one you ever befriended, the monster that followed you throughout your journey, keeping a watchful eye on your every action.. well, you didn't save him. In fact, you falling down in the Underground seems to have been the catalyst that sparked this whole horrible timeline. You doomed him and Papyrus. 

"What.. what kind of accident?"

Sans shrugs again, but one of his hands comes to his face again. You watch as three of his fingers dip into that empty socket and hook around the rim, pulling tight. It makes you involuntarily cringe a little. "wish i knew," is all he says in reply. You're no longer sure you want to know. His grin is tight and strained. 

The two of you sit in silence for a while, just watching the static crack on the television. This is still your Sans, when you think about it. This is what became of the Sans you grew to have a crush on, who used to take you to Grillby's and crack jokes with you. You cast a sidelong glance toward him and find that even though his posture's relaxed, he still has those fingers dug into his eyesocket. Is he blind in that side without the eyelight? Does that hurt? You decide not to ask him.

"hey." In the end, he's the one that breaks the silence again. He finally manages to drag his fingers away from his eye, but he's still looking straight ahead at the TV. "did you really date my brother?"

You stare at him for so long that he finally decides to look over at you. When he does, you burst out laughing. The thought of _him_ of all people asking if you and Papyrus _really_ dated is just too much. He looks a little annoyed. "what?"

"Yeah, well, I mean if you could call it that. I was a kid, and he let me down gently." You grinned at the memory. Yeah, you had cried when he told you that he didn't return your feelings--after all, he had somehow gotten you so wrapped up in the hype that you had decided to profess your undying love for him right then and there and just roll with it. But, Papyrus had been sweet enough to sweep all of that aside, and continue being the best friend you could ask for throughout the Underground. 

Sans snorts. "sounds like my bro all right."

Before you can regale him with the details, Papyrus pops back into the room, holding a giant bowl of steaming spaghetti. "HUMAN, BROTHER, I'VE FINISHED PREPARING DINNER! LET US SIT AT THE TABLE AND EAT!"

The three of you do just that, and you inspect Papyrus's spaghetti. It actually doesn't look burnt, which surprises you, and when you take a bite, you find it delicious. It's much better than it used to be! "Wow, Papyrus, you've really improved!" you compliment him, and he beams.

"REALLY? I TOOK A FEW LESSONS FROM.. OTHER PEOPLE." Shifty eyes. "I DIDN'T REALIZE THAT I WAS USING WAY TOO MUCH HEAT! OR THAT NOODLES NEEDED WATER! BUT YOU CAN LEARN SOMETHING NEW EVERY DAY." He smiles as he eats, which looks rather unsettling with the way his teeth are set. "BUT TELL US WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU, HUMAN. DID YOU MAKE IT BACK TO THE SURFACE?"

You think of your life on the Surface the first time. You ended up bouncing around foster homes before you dropped out of high school and started working full-time to pay for your own apartment. The second time through with Toriel as your mother was much better. "Yeah, I did. But I..I missed you guys."

"WE MISSED YOU, TOO! BUT IT'S STILL MUCH TOO DANGEROUS FOR YOU TO HAVE COME HERE! IF QUEEN UNDYNE FINDS OUT THAT WE'RE HARBORING YOU HERE, SHE'LL.." He trails off, and Sans's perma-grin suddenly looks rather terrifying. Papyrus clears his throat. "OF COURSE, WE WON'T LET THAT HAPPEN."

"Thanks. I don't mean to get you guys in trouble." You have a feeling that you won't last long here, anyway, so you don't stress out about the prospect too much. You just don't want to bring trouble to their doorstep. "But, hey, what about you, Papyrus? What have the two of you been doing since I left?"

Papyrus straightens to his full height in the chair and holds his hand against his chest. "I'M THE CAPTAIN OF THE ROYAL GUARD!"

"Oh! Just like you always wanted!" You smile. At least his dream got to come true.

"YES! AND.. WELL, I WANT OUT!!" He deflates immediately, slumping over so much that his head nearly touches the table. Thanks to his incredible height, his spine is now bent at a really awkward angle. "IT'S TERRIBLE!"

You weren't expecting that. "You don't like it?"

He shakes his head. "EVERYTHING I DO IS WRONG AND UNDYNE USES ME AS A PUNCHING BAG. I MEAN.. I UNDERSTAND THAT RULING THE UNDERGROUND IS VERY STRESSFUL, ESPECIALLY CONSIDERING THAT EVERYONE IS STARVING, AND SHE'S ALWAYS BEEN MY FRIEND, BUT.. SHE'S JUST BECOME SO MEAN!"

So Undyne is the one to blame for the way Papyrus's face looks. It sounds as if she's taking out her stress on not being able to secure human SOULs on him. If that's the case, then she might even be to blame for Sans's head-wound. 

Wait.

"Back up. Everyone is starving?" You look to your bowl of spaghetti and realize that if there's a shortage of food, you're taking food that Papyrus and Sans could need to survive. You start to push your bowl back to Papyrus. "You need this more than I do."

"NONSENSE! AS CAPTAIN, I GET ENOUGH TO EAT." He pushes it back toward you, insisting. "BESIDES, SANS IS VERY GOOD AT HIS JOB, SO WE ALWAYS END UP WITH A LITTLE EXTRA." 

Sans, not being berated for being a lazybones? That's different. "What kind of job is it, Sans?"

"HE'S STILL A SEN--"

Sans cuts his brother off. "i sell hot dogs."

You raise your eyebrows. In a world where food is scarce, Sans is selling it? 

"O-OH YES! THE HOT DOG STAND IS VERY LUCRATIVE! SANS USUALLY STILL USES WATER SAUSAGES OR.. WHATEVER ELSE HE CAN FIND." More shifty eyes and throat clearing. Do you even really want to know? Probably not, but at least now you don't feel as bad for eating Papyrus's spaghetti. It really does taste delicious.

Sans is eating his, too. "this isn't your special spaghetti, right, pap?" He stares directly at Papyrus, who shakes his head. 

"ABSOLUTELY NOT!"

You smile a little, deciding to tease him. "What? You didn't want to break out the special spaghetti for me?" You think of the spaghetti he had claimed was finely aged in a silken cast. 

Papyrus sweats. "N-NORMAL SPAGHETTI IS JUST FINE! IT'S A CLASSIC!"

Sans winks at you, smirking. "the special kind has the _human_ touch."

Papyrus's eyelights appear to boggle in opposite directions, and he scolds Sans for some pun that you didn't quite catch, but that's okay. Because things are feeling normal again. You still have that hollow feeling in your chest from moving on from the red-eyed Sans's timeline again, especially given how long you had stayed there this time. It was a nice respite, but you're starting to.. feel numb to it. Nothing feels permanent, and in this timeline, Sans has claimed that monsters would love to kill you, so.. yeah, you're not expecting to really stay here. Still, it feels nice to be eating dinner with Papyrus and Sans--the ones that you ate dinner with nightly for _years_. 

But you still feel terrible about their situation. The monsters are running out of food. You wrack your brain for a possible way to save them, but you still don't have enough information about the timeline. 

There's a buzzing sound against Sans's thigh, and he checks his phone. Papyrus expectantly looks at him. Sighing, Sans rises and takes a few more bites of his spaghetti to finish it off. He leaves the dirty dish right there on the table. "it's work. i've gotta go, but i'll be back in a bit."

"GOOD NEWS?" Papyrus prompts, after casting a quick glance your way. 

"yeah, looks like it." You start to rise, too, intent on tagging along to gather more information about the timeline. Sans raises a hand and shakes his head. "keep each other company, will ya?"

You want to protest, but he turns around and leaves without another word. Slowly, you sink back into your seat. Papyrus smiles over at you, and you realize that if you can't get information out of Sans, maybe you can out of Papyrus. 

"Hey, Paps, wanna do some battle scenarios with your action figures?" 

Papyrus looks so happy, and your heart breaks a little when you look at his grin. 

"BOY, DO I!"

###### 

Sans sighs as soon as he steps outside. This is terrible timing, but with a haul like this, he can't afford not to show up. The others would get suspicious and come knocking down his door. Ugh, he thought you were going to follow him, and he was going to have to get stern. Not only would following him mean that someone would likely attempt to kill you, but you would find out the sad little truth about the state of the Underground. He had made the mistake of telling Toriel about some _finger_ food he made, and she _freaked out_. The former queen just absolutely lost it, and she locked herself away in the Ruins. She would never forgive him, but he could tell from the sounds coming from the Ruins that she had gone crazy with the knowledge of what was happening.. and any human that fell and wanted to try to go back home ended up weak and unable to leave. 

That was fine with him. If they died in there, Toriel usually tossed the bodies out. And there were other spots for humans to fall. The Snowdin woods happened to be a hot spot for humans because the ice above the cavern would break and the human would fall right in. And if they happened to survive the fall, well.. Papyrus entertained himself by setting up rather intricate puzzle traps throughout the woods. Any human that failed his puzzles would be captured, wounded, or even killed by whatever mechanism Papyrus had crafted. 

As the Royal Guard Captain, Papyrus was supposed to capture humans just as he had always strived to do, and then deliver them to Undyne. But, Sans hated Undick for the way she banished Tori, and the way she abused Papyrus. The day she finally bit the dust, he would be the first one there to spit on her remains. Her hate had utterly consumed her, and it was contagious; she'd sparked a major unrest in the monsters. Unfortunately, the riots during the rebellion had caused fires and vandalism, and well.. it turned out that part of the reason Asgore was so adamant about finding that last human SOUL was because he knew food sources were growing thin. But, he had other SOULs, so if it had come to that, he could have just taken a SOUL, crossed the barrier, and brought back the last SOUL. He just.. didn't want to get his hands dirty. He wasn't really a bad guy.

Well, whatever. Asgore is gone, so are the SOULs, and now everyone is eventually going to starve.

However, Sans wasn't about to let Undyne gain that kind of power, either. He convinced Papyrus to eat the humans he captured instead of sending them to Undyne. At first, Papyrus was absolutely appalled, but.. he'd taken so many blows to the head already. And Undyne was cutting back their rations because of Papyrus's inability to capture a human. 

So, Sans took matters into his own hands and killed the human they had captured. He butchered up the body, though took time to study the different organs and bone structures. He felt as if there may have been a time when that kind of thing would have fascinated him, but that part of his life was fuzzy. Everything before this hell was fuzzy. He could remember a human.. a little girl that was terrified, yet kind to him and his brother. _You._ He knew details of what Papyrus had told him about you, but most of them were completely lost to Sans. 

You'd probably be appalled if you knew he killed humans.. and then ate them. Or if you knew Papyrus had loved the taste, that his special spaghetti was made with captured humans, and that the brothers rationed their human meat and used it to sell hot dogs to the citizens of Snowdin under the table. There was just something about humans that made monsters last longer than normal magic food. Maybe it had something to do with human SOULs, even if their bodies weren't comprised of them? Sans may have be able to figure out the answer once upon a time, but not now. 

And now he didn't really care.

Sans headed into Snowdin woods and found the Guard Dogs standing around a human body that had already been partially-butchered up. They may work for the Royal Guard, but they still preferred not to starve, and with the way rations were dealt, they never had enough to feed their entire families. They had worked out the system, and they all took turns cleaning out Papyrus's traps. It worked well enough, as long as no one decided to get greedy. 

The skeleton grinned, hefting his ax into the air. Lesser Dog wagged its tail excitedly. 

"anyone want a head-dog?" 

With a chuckle, Sans swung his ax and decapitated the body.

###### 

"So what happened to Alphys?" you probe, while setting up an MTT action figure across from Papyrus's. In your experience, he always becomes rather loose-lipped when you ask him questions while he's concentrating on something else. His bony brow furrows, and he plants his hands on his knees, examining the 'battle plan.' He's so tall now that his spine is bent way over in an attempt to get himself closer to your height, but you assume he's used to doing that when he's around Sans. Or.. anyone, really, because he's now the tallest monster you've ever encountered. 

Just what has he been eating?

"DOCTOR ALPHYS? SHE DISAPPEARED AFTER UNDYNE TOOK OVER." He doesn't even glance up. "YOU KNOW, UNDYNE HAD A THING FOR HER. I THOUGHT UNDYNE WAS FINALLY GOING TO CONFESS, BUT SHE NEVER GOT THE COURAGE!" He's quiet for a moment, and his cheeks start to tinge a light pink. "THOUGH.. I RESPECT THOSE THAT DO GET THE COURAGE! LIKE YOU! WHEN YOU WERE A BABYBONES HUMAN, YOU WERE QUITE COURAGEOUS!"

You can't help but smile, leaning over to loop your arm through his. Papyrus leans down even further to rest his chin on the top of your head. 

_*I STILL BELIEVE IN YOU._

You close your eyes. You thought you were done with that guilt, but there it is.

"I'm sorry," you mumble. You can feel his head tilt in confusion, so you say, louder, "Well, what about Mettaton?" You hold up one of his actions figures.

Papyrus pulls back with a long sigh. "HE'S ALSO DISAPPEARED. I.. I'M NOT SURE IF IT'S BECAUSE HE DIDN'T AGREE WITH UNDYNE'S VIEWS ON HUMANS, OR WHAT.." You get the feeling that people that don't agree don't last long here. That could be another catalyst for the skelebros' injuries. "BUT I HAVE A THEORY!"

"You do?"

He nods, looking pleased. "YES! I THINK METTATON AND ALPHYS JUST FOUND SOMEWHERE ELSE TO LIVE. MAYBE THEY LEFT WITH KING ASGORE! I DON'T KNOW WHY THE KING WOULD GO OFF LIKE THIS, BUT IT COULD BE THAT THEY'RE ALL JUST ON A VACATION SOMEWHERE! I'M SURE WHEN THEY GET BACK, EVERYTHING WILL BE BETTER!" He nods, so self-assured, and your heart breaks again. You _know_ he's not that naïve.. that it's probably just his way of making himself feel better about the situation, but still. 

"I hope that's where they are, too, Paps," you murmur, setting up another toy robot. 

Time passes with the two of you setting up the figures while just chatting in general. He talks about his spaghetti and how he's worked up several new puzzles. When you offer to try them out, he starts sweating and says they're not for you. Well, that's suspicious, but he won't give you any details, other than that they're dangerous. 

"I WAS ONLY A SENTRY BEFORE! NOW THAT I'M THE CAPTAIN, I HAD TO STEP UP MY GAME! IT'S SIMPLY TOO DANGEROUS FOR YOU TO TRY THEM. I DON'T WANT YOU TO GET HURT."

"But wouldn't other humans get hurt in them, then?"

"WELL... UH...." He trails off, scratching the side of his skull. "OH LOOK, YOU DIDN'T ACCOUNT FOR THIS!" And then he changes the subject by surrounding one of your robots with two more of his. "YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO WATCH YOUR BACK!"

"You got me." You reset the figures, and casually try another question. "What about Sans's job? He's finally stopped being a lazybones?"

Papyrus scoffs. "HE'LL ALWAYS BE A LAZYBONES! SANS IS CONSISTENTLY LATE FOR WORK AND DOESN'T CARE ABOUT HIS OUTSIDE APPEARANCE! HIS SHIRT IS FULL OF GROSS OLD KETCHUP STAINS!"

You feel relieved. "Oh, so it's ketchup."

"YES! AND EVEN THOUGH WE RAN OUT OF KETCHUP LAST YEAR, NEW STAINS KEEP APPEARING! IT'S SO MYSTERIOUS!" 

Uh...

"You ran out of ketchup?"

He nods. "WE DID! IT'S A SHAME BECAUSE SANS LOVED THE STUFF, BUT AT THE SAME TIME, HE WAS ALWAYS REALLY DISGUSTING WITH IT! DRINKING KETCHUP FROM A BOTTLE? THAT'S JUST WEIRD!"

But then what are the stains..? Papyrus obviously doesn't have an answer, so you skip that question. You're thinking up the next one when you hear something come from outside. There's banging, but also.. a little bit like someone chopping wood. "Is Sans back?"

"OH, THAT'S PROBABLY HIM. SOUNDS LIKE HE'S PREPARING.. THE HOT DOGS." You catch the little pause there, and your curiosity gets the better of you. You start to stand up, and you're the same height as Papyrus is sitting down. "WHERE ARE YOU GOING, HUMAN?"

"Just to get a glass of water. I'll be right back."

He accepts this answer because why would you ever lie to him? "OH OKAY. I'LL SEE IF I CAN FIND SOME MORE OF MY OLDER FIGURES AROUND HERE."

You slip out of his bedroom and head downstairs. The sound's definitely coming from the shed, but the way Sans quickly ushered you inside with his jacket over your head before is troublesome. Was he hiding you from possible prying eyes so Undyne wouldn't discover they were letting you stay with them? Or was he hiding you from the monsters themselves? You peek past the curtain, but don't see anyone milling about nearby, so you decide to chance it. Quickly, you open the door and dart through the snow, crossing the short distance to the shed in record time. The sound is still present, and you push the door open ever-so-slightly to peer inside.

Sure enough, Sans is inside, and he's chopping something up on the counter with his bone ax. The interior light is dim, but you can tell that dark liquid is pooling on the floor. Maybe Papyrus wasn't lying, and he's just making hot dogs. Perhaps he caught an animal or something that he's skinning for the meat?

You open the door a little wider, about to just straight-up ask him what he's got. The door creaks on its hinges, and Sans abruptly turns around, his ax raised and something held in his hand. You stare at it in disbelief for several seconds before he realizes what he's holding. 

Then, you scream. 

A split-second later, Sans is on you. He jerks you inside the shed, slams your back against the now-closed door, and his hand slaps over your mouth to cut off that scream. He dropped what he was holding, but you can still see it lying down on the floor. Your gaze returns to his face, however, when he pushes your head back and leans in close, that single red iris filling most of your vision. He looks crazed in this moment, his skull splattered with what you know isn't ketchup. No, it was never ketchup. Sans is covered in blood, and hell, you were wearing his blood-stained jacket earlier. You had even wiped your face with his stained sleeves.

... His hand now is slick, and you know there's blood on the bones on your face. There's a sharp metallic scent clinging to him, and you feel sick. 

He had been holding a _human hand._ If you hadn't screamed, would he have turned around, held it out, and said something like _need a hand, buddy?_ You start to feel hysterical.

Sans draws in a deep breath through his nasal cavity. "listen.. kid. i'm going to take my hand away, but please. _don't. scream._ " 

You nod slightly. He takes in another deep breath and then removes his hand. Instantly, you start spitting on the floor and scrubbing your face with your hands. Sure enough, there's blood on your fingers. Your stomach rolls. 

"Wh-what the _hell_ , Sans?" you hiss. You can barely even look at the severed hand. It's one thing seeing a prop one in a haunted house or something, but when it's real--when you can see all the severed ligaments and stringy tendons and the pale protruding bone--it's truly horrifying.

"hang on. let's talk about this calmly," he says, pushing you away so he can check outside the door. He doesn't seem to want to risk it, so he suddenly grabs your arm. You reflexively jerk back (dying and **RESET** ing is one thing, but having Sans lop off your arm is another), but he grunts and just grabs your waist, dragging you against him. In the next moment, there's the familiar disorientation of the world shifting, and then you're in his living room. He collapses forward, grasping the side of the couch with a hand, and you pull out of his grasp. 

"Calmly? You were just chopping up a human!" Was Papyrus lying about the hot dogs, then, or..? "Were you.. making hot dogs, Sans?" You swallow; your heart is thundering in your ears, and he seems to be struggling to catch his breath. 

"WHAT'S GOING ON DOWN HERE?" Papyrus asks, rushing downstairs. He spots you and Sans and looks confused. Even he can read how tense the room is right now. "IS SOMETHING THE MATTER?"

"Papyrus.." You glance at the red stains on his teeth, then to the red splatters on Sans's clothes. 

"remember how we're starving down here, kiddo?"

Oh no. 

No, no, _no_.

You turn to Papyrus, feeling numb. "Your special spaghetti.."

Papyrus starts to fidget with his gloves. You turn on your heel and march into the kitchen. Both skelebros follow you, just in time to watch you jerk open the fridge. 

"HUMAN, I MUST INSIST THAT YOU--"

You open a container to find a bowl of spaghetti. His voice goes flat.

"--..DON'T OPEN THAT..."

There's hair in the spaghetti. Long, black strands mixed in with the noodles, along with some indistinguishable chunks. 

The meatballs are eyeballs.

You swallow; your hands start shaking.

... The meatballs are _eyeballs._

You can't stop staring. Papyrus takes the bowl from you, and you whirl around, your own eyes watery. "Papyrus, you.. is that something you eat?"

He can't look at you. "... YES." You stagger back against the counter, bracing yourself on the edge. Papyrus finally looks at you and starts to panic. "BUT.. BUT IT'S NOT LIKE WE'D EVER EAT _YOU_. YOU'RE OUR FRIEND! WE'LL PROTECT YOU!" He reaches toward you, and you flinch. This causes him to flinch, too, and he quickly draws back his hand.

" _eye_ see that you figured out the truth," Sans speaks up, his red iris widening to drive his pun home. "look, can you blame us? we're starving, and humans still fall in here. if we gave any of the souls to queen undick like she wants, she would just gain god-like powers. do you really want someone adamant about destroying humanity passing through the barrier with that kind of juice?" He shrugs. "so, sure, a few unlucky souls die, and we eat them to keep going. better than wiping them all out, isn't it?"

You're shaking. "It's.. it's still _wrong_. They have lives, just like you! It.. it could've.." 

It could've been you, if you had been unfortunate enough to fall in years later. 

Sans shrugs, nonchalant. "who's to say what's wrong or right?"

" _You_ do!" You screech the words at him. Both brothers' eyesockets widen, and Papyrus actually takes a step back. Your eyes are burning, and your throat is tight. "You always do! That's _what_ you do! You judge, you always have, you.. if you could see yourself now.."

_*you really are a freak, huh?_

"look, kid.." His fingers are back in his eyesocket, thrust down to the knuckle. He draws in a ragged breath, then steps forward, dropping his hand. His fingers left bloody stripes on the side of his face. "i gave up trying to tell right from wrong a long time ago. we're all trapped in hell. don't you get that? down here, you do what you can to survive. if it's wrong, if it's right.. well, none of that matters anymore."

"I-it does! There's.. there's still hope!" You're feeling DETERMINED, even if that feeling doesn't help you anymore without the **LOAD** function. 

Papyrus jumps all over that. "THE HUMAN IS RIGHT, BROTHER! THERE'S ALWAYS HOPE! I KNOW THAT ONE DAY, THINGS WILL GET BETTER! UNDYNE WILL STOP BEING SO ANGRY AND BECOME MY NICE FRIEND AGAIN, AND ALPHYS AND ASGORE WILL COME BACK FROM THEIR VACATION! METTATON, TOO! AND THEN THIS WILL ALL BE JUST AN UNPLEASANT NIGHTMARE!" 

Sans looks mildly annoyed, but he doesn't refute his brother. Even in this timeline, he can't shoot down his brother's optimism. It's part of what makes him so cool. Instead, he keeps holding your gaze, shaking his head slowly. You know that he doesn't believe it for a second. 

"I..I'll fix this. I did it before! I broke the barrier before!" Both brothers look at you as if you're insane. "We can do it again, and I can free all of you. It's possible!" You're still shaking, and you abruptly dart between the brothers. They turn around in confusion, but once Sans sees you heading for the door, he starts running after you.

"pal, we appreciate it, but it's just not possible."

You block him out. You can change this. You can fix this, right? You just need a plan. 

The first part of that plan is getting away from that house, so you start running through the snow, toward Waterfall. 

You can hear Sans behind you, and both of your footsteps are loud as they crunch the snow. You feel as if all of Snowdin is going to hear you, so you try to hurry. 

"c'mon, kid, just stop!"

No. You can't.

You've got to get away. This is all wrong; this timeline is wrong. You have to talk to Undyne, to reason with her.. but, there's a big part of you that knows it'll be fruitless. She'll kill you on the spot, just as she had during many of your **LOADs** in your original run through this timeline. You're not going to be able to save them before you're thrust into another timeline. You don't even know how to save them at this point, how to break the barrier without the human SOULs. Maybe if the monsters weren't _eating_ the humans to survive, they could have made it out by now, but Sans is right about one thing. Giving Undyne the power of human SOULs isn't a good idea. If she's this obsessed with killing humanity, she could easily take a human SOUL and cross the barrier herself. 

And you know from experience that she already has an insane amount of power. She could reek havoc on nearby villages and absorb even more SOULs. She could easily gain the power of a god. Would she even come back to break the barrier, or would she be too busy trying to sate her bloodlust? 

How many humans would die?

.. But it's only a matter of time before all the monsters die. 

And if you go into another timeline, will this timeline continue on? Will everyone eventually starve to death, or will humans keep falling in, keeping your friends fed? 

_* You can't save them._

But you have to try. You have to! You thought that this timeline was fixed, that by **RESET** ing the first time, you had managed to free everyone. Somehow, you were wrong. The timeline kept going, and you're not sure if it's just because of the glitches, or if it's always been running parallel to the one you call your true home. 

You continue running through Waterfall. Maybe if you can reach the Riverperson, they might still be around, and you can at least hitch a ride into Hotland and try to figure out how to get to the Capital from there. Maybe you can ask someone in the Guard to take you to Undyne. Papyrus never would--Sans wouldn't let him--but maybe one of the armored guards in Hotland would! 

"kid, wait!"

You can hear Sans coming behind you. There's _whoosh_ sound synonymous with his teleporting, but his footfalls only sound a little closer. You hear him curse under his breath. Looks like the head-wound didn't just affect his memories. 

"hold up!"

You continue running through Waterfall, not slowing down for a second. A few monsters poke their heads out from caves as you pass, looking surprised to see you, but as soon as they see Sans on your heels, they retreat. You weave through some tall grass, and you hear more cursing from behind you, followed by another _whoosh_. 

He's going to catch you. Even if his shortcuts are limited, he's still closing the gap. You start running across a bridge, and you feel his fingers skim your sleeve, but you jerk your arm in front of you and push yourself harder. He stumbles off-balance, and you manage to actually put a few steps between the two of you. 

But then something snags your ankle, and the next thing you know, you're being dragged underwater. Vaguely, you hear a shout right before water closes over your ears. You kick your leg, but whatever it is--a tentacle?--only tightens its grip, dragging you further into the depths. You swear that you see a ripple in the water, as if Sans dove in after you, but all your air is rushing out of your lungs, and your mouth fills up with water. 

You can't breathe, you can't breathe, and your chest is _exploding_ and everything is starting to feel numb and disconnected, and...

Drowning is a new death. You can add that one to the list.

Suddenly, you're not underwater anymore. No, you're in that black void. 

**[ R E S E T ]**

Bits and pieces between the letters are gone now, revealing only static, but other than that, it doesn't look much worse. You gasp for air for several moments and curl into yourself, trying to shake off the lingering feeling of that timeline.. the lingering guilt that _you_ were the catalyst that drove that rebellion. If you had done things differently, it never would have happened. You know that for a fact from your second timeline. 

You had no idea that the other timeline kept going. You knew that it was possible for timelines to keep going, now that you had experienced appearing in red-eyed Sans's timelines twice, but.. you had thought that initial **RESET** was a clean wipe of the slate. 

In the end, all you did was rush to your death. You freaked out, ran off, and got dragged to a watery grave in Waterfall. You were no help, but you would have died there eventually. At least this way, you didn't get eaten by your friends..

No. They wouldn't have eaten you. You know they wouldn't have. 

The imagine of that spaghetti and eyeballs is going to haunt you, though. 

You take a moment to compose yourself and calm down, all while watching the option before you glitch. Finally, you're ready to face whatever the universe has decided to throw your way, and you reach out toward the button. 

Right as your fingers brush it, you hear something. 

"hey, you!"

And then the blackness shifts, and you're suddenly standing in Snowdin again. 

Did you imagine the voice? You look around, but there's no one standing out in the snow. You must have, or maybe you're going as crazy as the monsters in the other timeline. You check your hands for blood, but there's none. You're still wearing your sweater-dress and leggings, and they're thankfully dry. It's still cold standing out in the snow, however, so you make your way up to the skelebros' familiar house. There's still lights strung up and mail overflowing in Sans's mailbox, so at least that much seems the same. 

What are they going to be like this time? As long as they don't want to devour your flesh like zombies, you think you might be able to deal. 

You knock on the door. Some muffled voices can be heard from the other side, and then the door opens wide.

"I WASN'T EXPECTING YOU TO TRAIN ME TODAY!"

Papyrus is standing in front of you, but when he processes that you're not who he thought you'd be, his expression suddenly goes blank. You're too busy staring at his outfit and trying to figure out what's going on with it. For one, his jacket is tight and incredibly cropped, showing off a good portion of his ribs and a pinkish abdomen thing. Is that even clothing? It's shiny. His legs are covered by tights and boots, but he's wearing a belt with hearts on it. Human SOULs or just hearts? It could go either way, depending. 

"Uh.." What do you even say? He's obviously not a Papyrus that knows you. "Hey, so.."

"A HUMAN!" He gasps, suddenly pulling you into the house and slamming the door. "SANS! THERE'S A HUMAN HERE! THIS MUST BE THE ULTIMATE TEST! EITHER THAT, OR WE FINALLY MANAGED TO FIND ONE!" 

Test? What test? "I'm not here to be a test," you interject, and he looks you over. His hand slides to the small of your back, and he pulls you flush against his hips in one fluid motion. Your eyes go wide. 

He leans down, his index finger and thumb hooking around your chin to tip your head back. His voice suddenly drops to an inside tone, sultry and low--nothing you ever imagined a Papyrus (well aside from orange-hoodie Paps) capable of doing. 

"Then why are you here, little human?"

He rocks his pelvis into yours, and coherent speech eludes you. What's going on? What's happening now? What the hell kind of timel--

Papyrus abruptly kisses you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what AU we're in now? ;]  
> Hold on to your hats because the next chapter is a doozy of sin. 
> 
> I wish Horrortale could have lasted longer--with the Reader actually attempting to fix things--but ultimately, I ruled it as needless. She wasn't going to bone that Sans (I originally planned for her to, but the prude was too freaked out by his diet, pfft. Since when does that sinner have standards?), but it was neat for her to see how it tied into her _original_ timeline, and that--hey--the timelines run parallel.
> 
> [And why not check out my tumbr?](https://tyranttortoise.tumblr.com/) I'm doing imagines, questions, scenarios, and all that good stuff with the various skelebros.


	11. *You're shared between brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus really wants to get into the Royal Harem, so you decide to help.  
> So does Sans.
> 
> *You've reached new levels of sin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ***SMUT WARNING, SMUT WARNING, SMUT WARNING!**  
>  Holy shit, this chapter is a THREE-SOME CHAPTER.  
> And yes, there's some _double-penetration_ going on at one point.  
>  If that level of sin makes you uncomfortable, feel free to wait for the next update because I purposely left out all dregs of plot from this chapter.  
> I mean, there isn't even a preview of the next AU at the end like I usually throw in. 
> 
> Underlust belongs to Neil at [UnderLust Shame Cave.](http://nsfwshamecave.tumblr.com/)  
> I took a few creative liberties with the skelebros on this one.

The kiss lights up your senses, his teeth skillfully parting your lips so his tongue can snake inside your mouth without preamble. A surprised sound forms in the back of your throat, but with the way the heat of his manifested magic is undulating against your tongue, you can't help but press back against it, melting into his arms. Your fingers find purchase in the front of his cropped jacket, balling up in the material as he dips you backward, using the height difference to deepen the kiss. Your body feels flushed, tingling from the concentrated magic in his tongue, and you realize that his magic feels different from the other skeletons you've experienced. Theirs was usually a light, pleasurable tingle rippling through your limbs and toward your abdomen, but _this_ Papyrus's.. it was a spark trying to ignite a fire in your core. Your knees felt weak, and you made a tiny sound in the back of your throat that had him grinning against your lips.

"well look at that. there really _is_ a human here."

The low tone comes from beside Papyrus and you start out of your haze, jerking your head back to break the kiss. Papyrus's hand falls from your chin, and while he steps back enough to turn toward Sans, he keeps a hand casually on the curve of your hip. You stare wide-eyed at the shorter skeleton, taking in this timeline's appearance. Physically, he appears the same, but his outfit is like nothing you could ever imagine him being caught dead wearing. The fur-lined vest is over a cropped top that exposes half his spine and the crest of his pelvis, and instead of basketball shorts, he's clad in leather pants and tall, light-blue boots. He's even wearing fingerless leather gloves.

... And a grin that's predatory.

You feel like you've been caught cheating with Papyrus and automatically jerk back another step, until your back hits the wall. Both brothers watch you carefully. 

"What's wrong, human? You were into it just a moment ago," Papyrus claims, still using that low, sultry tone of voice that you never expected to come out of his mouth. You feel your face flush as Sans's grin widens, and he steps forward as well, his eyelights traveling along your body.

"she did seem to be enjoying it until i showed up," he remarks, and you swallow hard. Yeah, you had been enjoying it all right, which you knew you shouldn't have been, but with all the timeline hopping, it was nice to be in a world where it didn't seem like you were going to be killed on-sight or eaten. You just.. still didn't know what kind of timeline you were in. You needed some answers.

You ignore Sans's grin for a moment to turn your attention back to Papyrus. Your gaze keeps traveling to his pink abdomen, but you manage to force it to meet his gaze. "Why did you suddenly kiss me?" You blurt the question so quickly that both brothers' eyesockets widen in surprise. They share a glance, before Papyrus looks at you again.

"Weren't you sent to us?" You stare, your brow furrowing. He continues, "By Undyne, right? If I succeed in fucking a human senseless, that should get me into the Royal Harem."

Wait. 

_Wait._

Back up.

"Did you say Royal Harem?" you parrot, your eyes wide. You look between him and Sans for any kind of joke you might be missing, but you don't find one. Instead, Papyrus is nodding fervently, his eyelights morphing into tiny pink hearts. His voice even picks up it's usual excited volume.

"YES! AND THEN I'LL BE LOVED BY ALL!" He seems to realize he was getting carried away and clears his throat while stepping back into your personal space. He plants a hand on the wall beside your head and leans in. You feel your cheeks start to flush again--at this point, you're no stranger to skeleton advances, but having _Papyrus's_ face this close feels a little different. You're reminded again of the time you went on the "date" with him when you were a child, and how much you cried when he rejected you.

_DON'T CRY BECAUSE I WON'T KISS YOU!_  
_BECAUSE I DON'T EVEN HAVE LIPS!_

Well, you had kissed the Swap-Papyrus since then, and it while it was a doozy of a kiss, it had nothing on what you had just experienced from this Papyrus.

A Papyrus that is wanting to apparently give you a free trip to the bone zone in hopes of entering the Royal Harem. It sounds like some sort of weird twist on the Royal Guard, so you are able to get the gist of this timeline. The monsters are oversexualized. There's likely some kind of explanation, but.. Papyrus hooks his finger beneath your chin again before you can figure out how to phrase any other inquiries. 

He tips your head back, his thumb coarsely rubbing across your bottom lip. "So, what do you say, little human? Are you ready to have the night of your life?" His voice has reached that sultry octave again, and you can feel his warm breath ghosting your mouth. 

You could choose to give in to a night with Papyrus and help this one achieve his lifelong dream while simultaneously having a fantastic time and fulfilling a forbidden fantasy...

Or you could leave now. An image of red-eyed Sans flashes through your mind, and your hands clench into the sides of your sweater dress. You find your gaze flickering over to the Sans of this timeline, who looks so similar yet so vastly different. He's watching you with that same scrutinizing gaze every other Sans has held, the only that Judges you and makes you feel bare.

Red-eyed Sans is gone. The chances of you finding that timeline again are abysmal, just like the chances of you getting home are growing slimmer and slimmer. 

Papyrus's grip tightens on your chin, and he forcefully brings your face back toward his. "You're staring at my brother an awful lot. Is it that perhaps you want him instead?" 

"Wh-what? No, I--"

"It's all right if you do. He's helped me with my training so far," Papyrus continues. 

Sans chuckles, stepping up to Papyrus's side and winking. "yeah, you could say we _cum_ as a pair."

Both brothers grin wider, and it takes you a moment to realize that was a dirty pun. Is he insinuating what you think he is? You don't really know how to handle this timeline. If all the monsters are like this, you could end up in a bad situation quick. 

Or.. you could always try another timeline and **RESET**. You have the power to call upon the option still if your DETERMINATION is steady enough, so you could check out of this world without dying and try again. 

Sans reaches out and grasps your hand in his. The bone exposed through his gloves glides over your skin, and his eyelights are focused on your flesh. "you're so soft, sweetie." His hand slides up past your wrist, dipping inside the sleeve of your sweater to rub along the flesh of your arm. "i wonder.. are some parts of you softer than others?" 

Papyrus's hand shifts to your cheek, his fingers curling along the edge of your jaw. He holds your gaze as he slowly leans in, his breath hot on your neck. His teeth graze the side of your throat, and you feel the tip of his tongue strike a white hot lap across your skin. Involuntarily, you gasp, one hand coming up to steady yourself against him. You were aiming for his jacket, but you actually end up with your fingers wedged between two ribs, and your hand curls around one. 

He groans against your neck, his hand shifting to fist in your hair. "Damn, hun. Did you change your mind?" You can feel his teeth curve into a grin against your neck. 

"Uh... Well..." You're distracted, caught between the dregs of your morals and the fact that your stay in timelines is never permanent.. so what would it matter if you gave in?

"bro, let me have a taste of the human, too," Sans murmurs as Papyrus angles his body away to allow his brother room to reach the other side of your neck. Sans removes his hand from your sleeve to grip your waist and leans in to run a softly-glowing purple tongue along the edge of your neck, all the way to just beneath your earlobe. The tongue is just as heated as Papyrus's, laced with that same magic that feels so good that your knees begin to buckle again, and your grip on Papyrus's rib tightens. 

_Fuck it._

"Sure... Okay," you mumble, your breath hitching when you feel Sans's fangs graze over the juncture of your neck and shoulder. You didn't even realize this version of Sans _had_ fangs, but it's what you're used to at this point. 

"What's that, human?" Papyrus practically purrs. His fingers tighten in your hair, pulling your head to the side to allow Sans better access, while he watches your face flush under the touch. Your free hand lifts to find purchase on Sans's shoulder, fingers balling into the fluff of his vest. Papyrus leans in so close that his teeth graze your lips when he speaks. "Do you want more of us?" 

"wanna have a good time?" Sans punctuates the inquiry by nipping your skin.

" _Stars_ , yes." You've heard the _stars_ phrase countless times over the years, but this is the first time you've ever used it yourself. Hearing you utter it seems to spark something in the brothers--or perhaps they were just waiting on your clear consent--but in the next instant, Papyrus's mouth crashes into yours. His tongue wastes no time slipping into your mouth, and you graze your teeth along it, which draws a low groan from the back of his throat. 

Sans's fingers shove your sweater dress up to your hips so he can dip his fingers beneath the hem and touch the flesh of your side. You can feel him probing your flesh, pushing in to feel the divots between your ribs, fascinated by the presence of your bones. Your fingers unfurl from his vest to mimic his motions and touch his the ribs exposed beneath his shirt. He makes a breathy low sound that you're intimately familiar with, and his phalanges dig into your hip. 

When Papyrus breaks the kiss, you're breathless.. and you also realize that you had been pumping your hand along a rib in a pattern you knew your other skeletal lover enjoyed. "I get the feeling you're not a skeleton virgin," Papyrus murmurs, his tone surprised yet thickened by his arousal; the skin of your palm feels amazing against his bones. 

"I'm a lucky guesser," you respond vaguely, unwilling to go into any sort of timeline-hopping talk, not right now. Luckily, Sans and Papyrus don't seem to want to question it further, either. While it's obviously a lie, Papyrus just grins and yanks your sweater dress above your head, forcing you to let go of the brothers' ribs in order to divest yourself of the clothing. 

"well, i _guess_ i'm in _luck_ ," Sans remarks, grasping your chin in his fingers to turn your face toward him. He kisses you next, even rougher than Papyrus, his fangs probing your lips in a way that made you gasp. In the meantime, Papyrus's tongue runs across your clavicle, toward your shoulder, while he edges your bra strap down with the tip of his finger. You reach for Sans's ribs, but your hand misses and you catch his vertebrae instead. His hips jerk toward you, and he groans into the kiss, snaking his tongue deeper into your mouth, flooding your body with the tingle of his magic. 

Finally, he pulls back, his cheeks flushed a light purple and his eyelights in the shape of tiny purple hearts. "who's the better kisser?" he prompts with a smirk.

Shit, you have to choose? Papyrus lifts his teeth from your shoulder to lightly _tsk_ at his brother. "Obviously, it's me. I'm the greatest, and that's why I'm going to join the Royal Harem." He says it like it's no competition, and you can see that, like Sans, his cheekbones are flushed a light pink and his gaze has morphed into light pink hearts. 

"well, i won't deny that you are the best kiss i've ever had," Sans claims with a shrug, which snaps you out of your aroused haze a little. Did he just say that he and Papyrus kiss? 

"Of course, it's always better when we combine our efforts, so instead of making the human choose.. why not give her the best kiss of her life?" Papyrus and Sans both share a look and a barely-perceptible nod before they both lean in together, their tongues snaking out from both sides toward your mouth. Automatically, you part your lips and tentatively stick your tongue out, only to have both brothers massage it with their own, their magic combining and dragging you right back into that lustful stupor. You want both of their hands all over you now, and since you're shirtless, it only seems fair that they shed some clothes. You start tugging at Sans's vest and Papyrus's cropped jacket, and the brother both chuckle lightly in the kiss.

"eager, huh?" The brothers pull back, and you abandon Papyrus's jacket in favor of sliding Sans's vest away with both hands. He complies, still grinning, and shrugs the vest off to let it hit the floor. He's still covered up by his shirt, so you go for it next, and Papyrus takes the opportunity to shove both of your bra straps down your arms. With a skillful flick of his wrist, the clasp is undone on your back, and you let it hit the floor at the same time that Sans tosses his shirt away. Both of you are completely shirtless now, so you start trying to peel Papyrus's jacket the rest of the way off, while simultaneously stepping out of your boots. 

Papyrus grins. "Slow down, human. Don't you want to savor the experience?" However, he still peels off his jacket. You can't help yourself; the thought of having both of them has given you the overwhelming feeling of excitement, arousal, and apprehension--along with a serious case of the nerves. If it gets drawn out too long, you might let that looming feeling of guilt take over again.

Like always, you're sinning your problems away and trying to numb yourself with glimpses of what could have been in another life. You know this. You're able to recognize what you're doing.

But then Sans palms your breast and sharply pulls you hips against his--and you can feel his manifested length, hard and eager, pressing against you through his tight pants. 

And then you don't care. You know what you want, and it's right in front of you.

You grip his spine again, raking your fingernails along the spinous processes, while your other hand reaches for Papyrus. You've never experienced anything like this (you're fairly certain this is a once-in-a-lifetime deal), but you don't want to leave him out. It isn't spine that your fingertips find, however. Instead, they encounter something squishy, with a bit of fluidity to it. 

Ah, that pink abdomen.

"What.. what is this?" you can't help but voice; after all, you've never seen any of the other skelebros with anything like it. 

Papyrus chuckles at your naivety. "It's my magic. I can use it to make more than just a dick, honey." You look a little confused, and he shakes his head. "Worry about that another time. For now.." He steps closer, and Sans slides to the side a little, giving Papyrus space to slip his hand down the front of your leggings. "Let's see how much you've enjoyed this."

He slides his phalanges beneath your panties and discovers they're soaked before he's even touched you. His face turns a brighter shade of pink, and when he meets your gaze, the hearts in his sockets are even larger. Leaning in, he takes your hand off his curious abdomen, guiding your fingers down to the slightly-glowing bulge in his pants. Then, he slips his fingers through your slick folds and delves one inside you with no resistance whatsoever. You're dripping wet, and the feeling only makes you clench around him--especially when he curls his finger upward just right and draws a moan from you. Grasping the bulge hard, you free your other hand from Sans so you can fumble with the button of Papyrus's pants. 

"She's completely soaked, Sans," Papyrus muses to his brother, while Sans's face lights up even brighter as well. 

"should we see how wet we can get her?"

Smirking, Sans moves to flick one of your nipples with his purple tongue, which draws another sharp gasp from you. With one brother languidly pumping his phalange inside of you and the other at your breast, swirling his tongue around your nipple, you can barely do more than lean your head back against the wall and grasp clumsily at Papyrus's pants. It feels incredible, and you're trying to focus on how fucking amazing it feels instead of how absurdly surreal the situation is. 

Your fingers finally free the button, and then you jerk the zipper down and attempt to free his magic cock. It takes a few tries to get it to emerge from beneath his tight pants since it's so hard that it doesn't want to bend, and Papyrus offers no assistance, instead trying to distract you by adding another finger to his ministrations. You moan again, louder than before, and Sans draws out the sound by skimming his teeth along the sensitive bud in his mouth. By the time you've got Papyrus's cock in one hand, you end up gripping the back of Sans's neck with the other, raking your fingernails against the bony ridges of his vertebrae. 

Papyrus groans in the back of his throat, thrusting his hips against your hand to urge you to stroke him. You comply, curling your fingers around the warm, tingling shaft, and pumping your palm along his length. It's not as girthy as Red's, but it's longer and a vibrant shade of pink that matches both this Papyrus's tongue and heart-shaped eyelights. It also has a slight upward curve to it, much like Papyrus's fingers are mimicking right now while they hit the perfect spot. 

Sans palms your other breast, squeezing and kneading the soft mound while he relishes the feeling of your skin. You're still softly moaning whenever something feels particularly good, but you're trying to focus on making the skelebros feel the same way. Your hand tightens on Papyrus's shaft, squeezing it while you give it a long, quick pump, and he gasps at the sensation. Deciding not to leave Sans out, you begin to fumble with his pants with your free hand, but he simply grabs your wrist and turns your hand to lace his fingers between yours. 

"don't take on more than you can handle. just relax and enjoy yourself," Sans mutters, his baritone voice vibrating your flesh and making you wish he'd talk more. 

"But I want you to feel good, too," you admit, your voice coming out surprisingly steady. 

"There will be plenty of time for that, human." Papyrus withdraws his hand from your leggings, and you suddenly feel empty. You actually buck your hips forward and have to fight to keep from whining in the back of your throat. Your imploring gaze locks with Papyrus's, and he smirks, raising his hand and spreading his fingers. You can see your cum sticking between them in little shiny lines that catch the pink glow from his eyelights. "You're so wet and needy right now," he observes, his tongue snaking out to clean the juices from his phalanges. "And stars do you taste _amazing_."

Sans starts to crouch down, his fingers slowly slipping from your hand. As he descends, he runs his tongue along the underside of your breast, then across your abdomen and over the curve of your hip, where he lightly nips your skin with his fangs. You jerk, the area slightly ticklish, and he chuckles. Hooking his fingers into the waistband of your leggings, he peels them down your legs, removing your panties along with them. You can feel the heat from his breath fan across your core, and the anticipation has your knees weak. You end up gripping Papyrus's ribs with your free hand to steady yourself, while squeezing his cock hard with the other.

Sans grips your hips with both hands and finally parts your drenched folds with his tongue. The purple appendage is hot, concentrated magic that makes you cry out when it begins to undulate against your clit. Sans hums in the back of his throat in arousal from your reaction, and it vibrates against his tongue. You can't focus on Papyrus anymore, and your knees buckle. The lankier skeleton steadies you with a hand on his arm, while Sans continues on mercilessly, his tongue delving inside you to drink in your taste. 

You can feel your back sliding along the wall; you're only barely standing because the brothers are supporting you. Sans seems to take notice and moves his arms so that they're beneath your thighs.. then shrugs his shoulders upward to get your feet off the ground. A tiny shriek rips past your lips as you're lifted so your legs are draped across his shoulders, and Sans takes advantage of the new position to bury his face against you, his tongue diving in deep. It swirls around your inner walls, much longer than any human tongue, and you involuntarily writhe against his face. You've released Papyrus's cock, but since you're at a lower position, your face is now level with it. It twitches when Papyrus sees your eyeing it, and he edges closer, brushing the bulbous head against your lips. 

Not wanting to leave him out, you part your lips for him and take in his length. He gasps loud, bracing his upper body against the wall above you, and you bob your head along him, lashing the underside with your tongue, and then swirling it around the head whenever you pull back. "You're.. ah... y-you're pretty good at that, human," Papyrus groans, the fingers of one hand twisting in your hair. He forces you to pick up the pace, which helps because you were honestly becoming too distracted by Sans to remember to keep going. Every time you moan, Papyrus groans louder, especially when you lightly graze your teeth along his shaft. His skull is tipped back, his sockets glowing bright, and his tongue is hanging out of his mouth while he moans. Sans has a firm grip on your ass, using it to tip your hips upward so he can get a better angle. You can feel your climax building, your toes starting to curl, and your breathing in small gasps around Papyrus's shaft. 

_Just a little more..._

Sans pulls his face away and Papyrus's cock pulls out of your mouth with an audible _pop_. You're left staring at them with your eyes half-lidded and glazed over with your own lust, and a whine starts to build in the back of your throat. _Don't stop now!_ But just as you open your mouth to verbalize the thought, Papyrus grabs beneath your arms and picks you up with an ease that reminds you of his natural strength. 

And then he sheaths himself in you all the way to the hilt.

You moan louder than before, wrapping your legs around his strange, slightly-squishy pink abdomen and hooking your fingers around his ribs for support. He's got you pinned against the wall, and he starts moving with shallow, slow thrusts, while muffling your moans with his teeth pressed to your lips. His tongue invades your mouth, mimicking the motions of your lower halves. Every time he thrusts all the way in, you can feel that curved part of his cock reach the perfect spot. He varies his pace, pulling out most of the way and then slamming all the way inside a few times, and then grinding his hips against yours. Not only does the feeling of that squishy magic covering his pelvis feel warm and tingly against your clit, but the way that curved tip rubs against your G-spot feels like its massaging it. 

You were already _so close_ before he ever thrust into you that it only takes a couple of minutes to have you coming undone. Your knees lock around him and you arch your back, your sensitive breasts scraping against his ribs. You practically scream into the kiss with the intensity of your orgasm, and his thrusts turn slow and languid, working you through your orgasm and expertly drawing it out. You've never came so hard; you can still feel your inner walls spasming around his length, and your entire body feels hot. 

Your rational mind tells you that it has to have something to do with their magic, but there's another part of you that wonders if you're just _that_ turned on from having both brothers fondling you. 

Speaking of...

Sans puts a hand on Papyrus's shoulder and reaches around his brother to grab onto yours as well. There's a sudden shift you're intimately familiar with at this point, and suddenly, you're no longer against the wall. No, your back hits what's possibly the most comfortable bed you've ever laid on, and you let go of Papyrus's ribs in surprise. Your palm skims across satin sheets, and when Papyrus pulls his head back, you take the opportunity to check out your new surroundings. 

You're lying on a heart-shaped bed in what appears to be this Papyrus's room. 

... Well, you had always wanted to have sex on a heart-shaped bed, but when you envisioned it when you were younger, you fantasized about Sans. 

As if reading your thoughts, Papyrus draws out of you, leaving you feeling empty again. As much as the Earth-shattering orgasm took out of you, you were hoping for Round 2 on the bed. After all, Papyrus still hadn't gotten off himself. You weakly reach out for him, still trying to catch your breath, and he chuckles. Leaning in, he presses a toothy skeleton kiss to your forehead, and then pulls you up by your arms. "I'm not going anywhere, human. Don't worry," he assures you as he slips so that he's behind you. He pulls you up against his chest, and you can feel the wet warmth of his erection settled against your lower back. 

Suddenly, Sans is in front of you and wearing a devilish grin. He grips your chin, his heart-shaped eyelights a vibrant purple. "that was fucking hot, hearing you come undone while paps drilled into you." He spreads your legs with his knees, sliding in closer. His purple ecto-dick is sticking out from his undone pants, not quite as long as Papyrus's, but as girthy as red-eyed Sans's. He grips your hips and angles you upward, while Papyrus palms both of your breasts from behind. 

Looks like that heart-shaped bed Sans fantasy is about to become a reality. 

"Come here," your voice barely comes out above a whisper, but you grasp the bottom of Sans's sternum and pull. He gasps and his grin looks a little strained, but he complies immediately and buries his purple cock inside you. Everything still feels so sensitive--you've barely recovered from your climax--and the concentrated magic stretching you has set all of your nerves alight again. 

Unlike Papyrus, Sans doesn't start off slow and shallow. No, he plows into you with reckless abandon, the rough bone from the protruding crest of his pelvis scraping against your thighs. You shift and hook your legs up over the top of his hips to both prevent that and allow him deeper access. The skin of your knees rub against the transverse processes of his spine, and his breath hitches. Suddenly, his mouth crashes against yours, his grip tightening on your chin as he angles your head back. You can smell your own arousal on his face, taste it on his tongue, and it only turns you on more. 

With each hard thrust, your body rocks against Papyrus's, and he begins to rock his erection against your back. The lankier skeleton licks and bites your neck, groaning as he grinds against your skin. His hot breath warms his saliva, causing you to involuntarily shudder against his ribs, while he rolls your pert nipples between his fingers. 

You break the kiss with Sans in order to lick his collar bone, then the top of his sternum, and he gasps and moans. " _s-stars_ , you really do know your way around a skeleton, sweetie. but hey, no complaints here." His hand drops from your chin to allow his fingers to trail along your sides, probing the soft give of your skin. Still keeping his pace, he finally slides his fingers down between the two of your joined bodies, to rub along your soaked bundle of nerves. 

Your breathing is wrecked, coming out in sharp gasps and shuddering moans, and it isn't much longer before you cum again, your knees clenching against his spine. Your head lolls back against Papyrus's shoulder and Sans finally slows his grueling pace down, leaning in to kiss you. You attempt to catch your breath and Sans moves his head slightly to the side.. and then you feel a third tongue join in the kiss. You jump a little at the sensation, but when both brothers battle for control of your tongue, you discover that it's simply the hottest kiss you've ever had. 

Sans doesn't pull out of you; throughout the three-way kiss, he continues slowly moving, keeping the pleasure going. With each thrust, you rock against Papyrus, and you can feel him grinding against your back. Finally, Papyrus pulls back from the kiss to lightly bite your neck and move his hands from your breasts to your hips. He shifts, lifting you up slightly so that he can slide his pelvis beneath yours, his legs stretched out between Sans's. You're unsure of what he's doing at first, until you feel his the head of his length line up with your ass.

That snaps you out of your kiss with Sans with a gasp.

"What're you doing?" you blurt with a nervous edge to your voice. Sans gives you another quick thrust and gyrates his pelvis to regain your attention, while Papyrus kneads your asscheeks with his hands and nips the juncture of your neck and shoulder. 

"Just giving you a new experience, human. You don't seem like you've ever been with two partners at the same time."

"Y-yeah, this is the first..time.." Your voice starts to trail because Sans is making you feel so good again, especially when he dips his skull down to curl his tongue around your nipple. You arch against his mouth, the back of your head pressing against Papyrus's shoulder. 

"You seem nervous. Is that because you think it'll hurt?" he queries, gently prodding your unused entrance with the head of his magic cock. 

"Well..."

"you should know we won't hurt you," Sans chimes in, giving a nipple a rough flick with his tongue that draws a sharp gasp from you. Oh, they've done nothing but make you feel amazing, and this entire two-brothers-at-once experience has been brand new. Most of the timelines you've gone through have been emotionally-draining, so it feels so refreshing to just give in and forget everything, so just have an amazing time with alternate versions of the two brothers you care about the most. 

So, you give in and nod. Papyrus pauses, pulling back to look at the side of your face. "Okay," you verbalize. "G-go ahead, if.. if you promise it won't hurt." Again, it's difficult to focus on speaking, but Sans stills inside you while Papyrus positions himself again and starts to lower you down onto his length. His cock is still slick with your juices, and Sans's saliva from earlier has dripped downward, so there isn't much resistance when Papyrus begins to push in. You grasp onto Sans's upper arms at the sensation of being stretched, and Sans gives you a couple of shallow thrusts that overtake the uncomfortable feeling. His brother takes his time letting you adjust, pushing in slowly, and being careful to not go more than halfway. The brothers share a look and then Sans starts to move again, and you feel completely filled. 

It's a strange feeling, but strangely pleasant, when Papyrus starts to take shallow thrusts as well. Both of them are moving in opposing rhythms, so when one pulls out, the other is pushing in, and it has you moaning from their magic, unable to do much more than just squeeze Sans with your legs and hold on. Papyrus's ribs scrape against your back, and he's holding onto one breast while Sans continues to lash his tongue against the other. All three of you are moaning and breathing raggedly, and they both start picking up the pace when it seems like you've grown accustomed to the feeling of having them both. 

You never in your wildest dreams imagined this happening in any timeline.

Sans starts to thrust harder again, until he's setting the rhythm himself by pushing your pelvis up and down along Papyrus's length with the force. He lifts his head to kiss you again, and you feel yourself starting to get close, that tight coil winding in your abdomen. Your entire body is hot, and you've never felt so stimulated--you've certainly never had so many orgasms back-to-back in your life. So, when you cum again, your entire body clenches around both brothers, and Sans gasps raggedly into your mouth, kissing you harder, completely overwhelming all of your senses. Papyrus has stopped moving to allow you a moment to recover, but Sans is still thrusting with wild abandon. Finally, he seems to get control of himself enough to ease up a little, but that might just be because Papyrus is scooting the three of you toward the edge of the bed. 

The shorter brother seems to understand what Papyrus is trying to accomplish because he backs up, holding onto your thighs, while Papyrus grips your ass and lifts you. In one fluid motion, Papyrus and Sans are now standing, with you held between the two of them, still impaled on both. Papyrus has to bend his knees a little to be aligned properly, but he lifts you up and down with ease, and since your legs are still hooked over the crest of Sans's pelvis, there's no risk of you falling. You turn a little, still breathing ragged, shallow breaths, and wrap your arm around the back of Papyrus's neck, your other hand gripping Sans's clavicle. 

Your head tilts against Papyrus's, and both brothers pick up the pace. You're exhausted, but it doesn't seem like they're trying to get you off again; instead, their breathing is beginning to become just as ragged as yours, and they're groaning and gasping with every thrust.

In moments, you feel heat surge inside you, and their magic fills you up. Both brothers tense up, breathing heavily, and after a few more slow pumps, Papyrus slowly pulls out. As soon as he's detached, Sans turns and falls backward, his back hitting the bed and you ending up sprawled across his chest, your knees buried against the mattress. You let your cheek rest against his sternum, your heart pounding wildly in your chest, and you close your eyes in utter exhaustion. You can feel his ribs expanding beneath you as he struggles to catch his own breath, and after a moment, he chuckles and strokes your hair. 

"welp, that was amazing. fucking a human was pretty much as exotic as i thought it'd be," he remarks, while Papyrus breaths in deep. You feel the edge of the bed sink under his added weight, but you're too tired to move. 

"I think all of my training really paid off! Pleasuring a human was surely my final test! Undyne has to let me into the Royal Harem now!" He sounds so breathlessly happy that you find yourself sincerely hoping the Royal Harem is exactly what he wants. You hope that if this does let him realize his dream, that it's not like the Royal Guard and he can be happy. 

After all, the Papyrus from the last timeline got to be the Royal Guard Captain, and he wasn't happy. And the red-eyed Papyrus got to be the Captain as well, and while it suited him, he still wasn't a happy person, either. 

Perhaps it'll be different in this timeline. Plenty of other things seem different.. like Sans and Papyrus's relationship, and the fact that they both know exactly what they're doing in bed. Whew. 

"After that.. you deserve to be in any harem you want, Paps," you murmur, only half-aware of your surroundings. At some point, Sans has pulled out of you, and you feel emptier than you have in a long time without both of them filling you up, but you're absolutely sated. You couldn't go another round if your life depended on it. 

Papyrus seems pleased by your answer and reaches over to scoop you up into his arms bridal style, tucking your sensitive flesh against his ribcage. His voice has lost its sultry tone, instead returning to the excited volume you associate with most Papyruses. "YOU REALLY THINK SO, HUMAN? OF COURSE YOU'D BE COMPLETELY SATISFIED BY THE GREAT LOVER PAPYRUS! AND SANS LENDED HIS AID AS WELL! THANK YOU, BROTHER!" 

"I should be the one saying thank you," you murmur, sighing contentedly. You're going to be so sore after all of that, especially your breasts. 

"'s no problem," Sans replies, sounding just as exhausted as you. He gives a lazy thumbs up. 

"LET'S GET YOU CLEANED UP, HUMAN!" Papyrus carries you out of the bedroom and down the hall to the bathroom. The bathtub is heart-shaped as well, and already filled with steaming water. Is that a magic thing, or is it on a timer..? You decide that you don't really care as long as you get to soak in it, so when Papyrus lowers you into the water, you moan from just how good it feels against your muscles. 

"Thanks Paps. This is just what I needed." You beam up at him, and his face actually turns bright pink. His smile is bright as leans in to press his teeth against your temple, before pulling back. 

"OF COURSE! A LOVER AS GREAT AS I ALWAYS KNOWS WHAT YOU NEED!" He looks confident, but the way he poses with his hands on his hips, wearing nothing but his pants pulled halfway down his thighs, makes a pretty hilarious image. He's unperturbed by such things, however. "I'LL LET YOU RELAX, HUMAN! I NEED TO CALL UNDYNE AND TELL HER THE TRIAL WAS A SUCCESS!"

As he turns, your smile fades. Oh yeah. Undyne. The brothers still think it's some kind of trial she set up, though your knowledge of their bodies surely raised some red flags. After Papyrus is done with that call, you're certainly going to have to do some explaining..

Explaining that you don't feel up to doing.

Sighing, you sink into the water until you're submerged up to your chin. It's soothing, but you can't help but be brought back into reality now that you're not forgetting yourself in the skelebros' touches. Once they discover the truth, will they turn you over to Undyne? They'd probably have to.. And since the rest of the timeline seems to be just as sexually-charged as these two, the rest of the monsters would probably want an exotic human fucktoy as well. 

You may have given in to these two, but that's because in another life, you loved Sans and cared deeply for Papyrus. You have no interest in repeating this scenario with any other monsters in the Underground, and.. you have a feeling the others wouldn't care as much about your consent as these two. 

Another sigh escapes you, and you sink further into the water, stretching out your legs. You would have really liked to spend a few days here, just enjoying both of the brothers and forgetting about your troubles, your guilt, the way you fuck up everything you touch. 

But it's time to leave.

You close your eyes and focus on reaching for your Options again, just like you did in the second timeline, when red-eyed Sans was going to kill his brother. You had regretted jumping the gun and **RESET** ing afterward--especially since that was the last timeline where your **LOAD** option actually worked--but in this case.. You know that you need to **RESET**. Sure enough, the button appears in your mind's eye, glitching and barely stable.

How many more tries does it have left in it? How many more timelines before you end up stuck in a permanent limbo?

"hey, sweetie? got room for two? i wanna talk to you a sec." 

You hear Sans's voice and slip beneath the water until you're completely submerged to block him out. Did Papyrus already talk to Undyne and figure out the truth?

Probably.

You don't have a choice. You can't stay here, as fun as it's been. Reaching out, your fingertips skim over the glitching button, aiming for a piece of it that's not effected by the static. It glows a bright white, and then--

Darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * I hope you sinners enjoyed going to hell with me. 
> 
> Remember that [I have a tumblr now](https://tyranttortoise.tumblr.com/). You can follow me or talk to me here or there, and I'm happy to theorize with you all day long. I'm also doing imagines and prompts, so you can look through those or submit your own. And yep, I'll also accept NSFW prompts so gimme all those sins. 
> 
> ALSO, next AU is Swapfell. Which reminds me; **I've got a question for you guys.**  
>  It's obvious that we're kicking up the sinning here, so do you guys want the Reader to screw SF!Sans, SF!Papyrus--or both?  
> Lemme know here or anonymously on tumblr if you're embarrassed.


	12. *You're just a pet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *You're captured by the Malevolent Sans, who decides that he could use a new pet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, it's been nearly a month since an update, so I'm soooo sorry about that! Geez, I had no idea I had gotten that far behind. 
> 
> Most of my comments on the last chapter had you guys wanting to know more about what happened with Underlust Sans--as in, what was he going to say, what would have happened if the Reader had stayed in that timeline when they discovered she wasn't a test sent by Undyne. 
> 
>  
> 
> [So, here's a link to exactly that. ](https://tyranttortoise.tumblr.com/post/159418018108/bpt-ch11-extra-underlust-sans)
> 
>  
> 
> ALSO, a big shout-out to Amashi_zaino for the fun burrito encounter in this chapter. You're awesome! <3
> 
> Fanart at the bottom.

When the darkness fades away, you're standing in the middle of a snow-covered forest that you recognize as Snowdin forest. The cold air against your skin is a stark contrast to the warm water you were submerged in only moments ago, and you're back to wearing your sweater dress and leggings. 

You can still feel the phantom soreness in your limbs, reminding you of what transpired in another timeline.

Where are you now? You're tired of all the timeline hopping, so it would be nice to get the opportunity to rest again, if only for a couple of days. Maybe you should have stayed in the other timeline, shared between the brothers for a little longer.

... Guilt starts to pit in your stomach, and you push it aside. Once, you felt guilt over betraying your love for the Sans of your original timeline, but now.. 

Now, you felt guilt over betraying the red-eyed Sans.

 _He's gone,_ you try to reason with yourself as you start trudging forward through the snow. You'll never find that timeline again. You need to move on, to figure out how to get back to your own timeline. Your real guilt should lie with your sins, with the dust you once felt coating your skin, with that streak of red that dribbled onto the golden floor where your original Sans laid his judgement upon you. 

_He was never yours._

"Stop," you whisper between clenched teeth, trying to push these thoughts aside. You never know; you could be in your original timeline now. There's no telling what form Sans might take in this timeline, but you have to keep pushing forward. 

You take another step, and your ankle catches something in the snow. Suddenly, a net rises from beneath you, and you find yourself propelled into the air, suspended by the netting. It closes around you sharply, and when you struggle, it bites into your skin and tears your sleeves and leggings. "Shit, shit!" you curse, drawing your arm to your body to discover that it's been cut; blood is seeping into your dress. 

The net is made of razor wire.. or piano wire? Either way, struggling against it is enough for it to cut you, so you try to remain perfectly still. Your breathing is beginning to come in short, labored gasps. 

Slow down and think. If you're caught in a net in Snowdin forest, it must be one of Papyrus's puzzles-- er, traps. And if Papyrus is making harmful traps, then it must be a version of him that you wouldn't like to meet.

But, you can already think of one version of him that could possibly do something like this. You try not to feel hopeful, but you can't help it. Could you be back in that murderous, kill or be killed timeline that you first ended up jumping into?

"Sans! Sans!" you start to scream, hoping that he'll hear you and cut you down before his brother stumbles upon you. "Sans, are you there?!"

Your heart is thumping wildly in your chest, and you hear crunching in the snow behind you. In an attempt to turn your head toward it, you accidentally catch your cheek against the sharp wire and earn yourself a cut, but you barely feel the sting. Instead, you're holding your breath, struggling to see who's approaching. 

"Sans?"

Abruptly, the net snaps, and a second later, you hear the sound of something embed into the tree--perhaps a bone that cut the rope? You hit the snow, but now that the net isn't stretched taunt, it no longer cuts into you. After recovering for the jarring impact, you whirl around and

\-- feel your heart sink.

A gloved hand forcefully grips your chin. 

"HOW THE HELL DOES AN INSIGNICANT _HUMAN_ LIKE YOU KNOW THE NAME OF THE MALEVOLENT SANS?"

_Fuck._

You're staring at a version of Sans that reminds you of the swapped personality one that acted like Papyrus and had rocket ship sheets on his bed. His eyelights are a deep sapphire, and his teeth are just as sharp as the red-eyed Sans and Papyrus with which you had spent so much time. He's wearing clothing that remind you of that Papyrus, all sharp angles, with pointed shoulder pads and part of his spine exposed, but there's a ragged, red bandana knotted around his neck and a crack across one of his eyesockets. His voice is a boisterous treble, though thickened with a growl his counterpart lacked. 

It seems as if that Sans swapped personalities with the edgy Papyrus. 

"Wonderful," you mutter under your breath, which earns his fingers painfully digging into your chin. 

"WHAT WAS THAT, WORM?"

He adjusts his grip, and you feel his glove slide across one of the cuts on your cheek, and pain flares through your skin. Wincing, you grab his wrist and attempt to pull back. He narrows his eyes in annoyance and tightens his grip. 

"Ow, geez!" you shout, becoming annoyed. "I.. I thought you were someone else!" If you tell him that you're a timeline-hopping sinner, do you think he would consider you crazy or just straight-up impale you like the red-eyed Papyrus did the first time you met him?

"LIAR! YOU SAID MY NAME!" Sans leans forward, his large eyelight focused on your expression. He turns your face from side to side. "AND I WOULD REMEMBER IF I WAS ACQUAINTED WITH A MEASILY HUMAN! SO, TELL ME THE TRUTH OR FACE THE CONSEQUENCES!"

Well, you're going to die. You're going to end up losing a **RESET** just because you happened to say his name. That might not be such a bad thing; you probably won't last long in such a violent timeline, anyway, but still..

Shouldn't you be trying to stay alive, so you can figure out if anyone can help you? There's no telling how much longer your **RESET** button will hold out. If you waste it like you did in the last timeline, you might end up stuck in that limbo forever. 

Appeal to his ego. You know how to do that from your month spent living with the red-eyed Papyrus. 

"I.. I heard about your terrible greatness," you lie through your teeth, but you feel his grip begin to slacken on your jaw. Relief courses through you. 

"REALLY? WORD HAS SPREAD OF MY MALEFICENCE ON THE SURFACE?!" He looks pleased, and you know you've said the right thing; you might just be spared. 

"Y..yeah. Yeah, we've heard all about how you're an accomplished.. guardsman," you answer, fumbling through your lie, trying to figure out if this Sans is a sentry or a member of the Royal Guard. Perhaps the captain like the other Papyrus?

His chest seems to puff out in pride. "I HAD NO IDEA MY TERRIBLE ACCOMPLISHMENTS STRUCK FEAR INTO THE HEARTS OF HUMANS EVERYWHERE! BUT IF YOU KNEW ABOUT ME, YOU MUST BE REALLY STUPID TO FALL DOWN HERE INTO ONE OF MY TRAPS!"

"Well, I _am_ pretty unlucky," you mumble under your breath, and Sans finally lets his hand fall from your face.

"YOU'RE RIGHT ABOUT THAT!" He sounds so smug, but coming from this version of Sans, it's almost.. cute. You can't help but imagine him as the swap-Sans trying to cosplay as the edgy Papyrus. You know those thoughts are dangerous--they could lead you into letting your guard down and getting skewered--so you try to remind yourself to tread lightly. 

"You caught me pretty easily.. so.. what happens next?" you prompt gently, your heart still thundering in your chest. You've died plenty of times already, but that doesn't make it any less painful or unpleasant. You're bracing yourself for the impact just in case.

"NORMALLY, I WOULD KILL YOU ON THE SPOT TO TAKE YOUR SOUL TO THE CAPITAL, BUT.." He trails off, giving you a sharp-toothed smirk. He abruptly takes your arm and hauls you to your feet, which is pretty impressive considering he's shorter than you, even with his thick-soled boots. "YOU'RE THE FIRST HUMAN TO ACTUALLY TALK TO ME, SO I THINK I'LL KEEP YOU FOR A WHILE!"

"Uh.. keep me?" you parrot. It sounds like he's wanting to keep you as a pet or something. 

Sans nods and starts walking, dragging you along with him. "YES! I WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THE SURFACE WORLD AND WHAT THE HUMANS KNOW ABOUT ME!" You fall into step beside him, but he doesn't relinquish his grip on your arm. The sleeve is a bit ripped, so his gloves are touching your skin.. which his eyelights seem drawn to. As he walks, Sans begins to bring your arm closer to his face, in order to better examine the blood marring the fabric from your cuts. "AND YOU ARE SOMEWHAT INTERESTING, HUMAN. YOU HAVEN'T ATTEMPTED TO FLEE." 

"I know it would be useless," you murmur, trying to stay on his good side. You know from experience that running would earn you a bone through the gut. However, the adrenaline is starting to wear off, and the cuts in your legs are making you limp. This seems to annoy Sans, and with a huff, he stops to haul you over his shoulder.

"IF YOU CAN'T WALK RIGHT, I'LL JUST CARRY YOU!"

You shriek a little and try to clutch the back of his shirt, but your hands only find purchase on the lower vertebrae of his back. He sucks in a sharp breath and staggers, almost dropping you. 

"H-HUMAN, WATCH WHERE YOU'RE TOUCHING!"

You can't twist to see his face, but if you could, he would certainly be blushing. 

"Sorry." You try to just grip onto his shirt instead, but it's difficult.. and as he walks, Sans keeps hefting you further over his shoulder, so you end up losing your grip with one hand and accidentally planting your palm on the exposed crest of his hip. 

He sucks in another deep, ragged breath, and his grip on your thighs tighten. 

"HUMAN..! I SAID TO WATCH IT! I KNOW THAT YOU'RE TRYING TO SEDUCE YOUR CAPTOR IN SOME SORT OF FORBIDDEN FANTASY, BUT IT WILL NOT WORK ON ME!"

You hurriedly grip onto his shirt, your face flushing. Did he really just..? You suddenly get the feeling that he was trying to get you to grip his hip. 

"Whoops, you figured me out," you retort, rolling your eyes behind his back. He doesn't pick up on your sarcasm. 

Instead, he sounds really smug when he says, "I KNEW IT!"

Both of you are silent the rest of the trek through the forest, and thankfully, Sans doesn't parade you throughout the Snowdin town. Instead, he takes the tunnels and back routes to his house, and you focus on holding onto his shirt. You expect him to take you into his house, but instead, he opens up the door to his shed and unceremoniously dumps you onto the wooden floor. 

The shed reminds you of that Sans with the cracked skull, and you feel uneasy remembering what became of that timeline.. and how one of your **RESETS** could have caused it. You shake your head to clear it as Sans looms over you.. before suddenly grasping your arm and dragging you backward into the barred area that takes up half the shed. There's barbed wire wrapped around the bars, making it impossible to shimmy through (well without considerable pain), and there's a large dog bed in the corner, along with a bowl filled with dog food and another filled with dirty water. 

"THERE! YOU CAN STAY HERE UNTIL YOU'VE EARNED YOUR MASTER'S TRUST!" His hands are planted on his hips, and he's grinning wide. 

"Master?" You heart has dropped into your stomach.

"YES! YOU WILL CALL ME MASTER FROM NOW ON! IT'S ONLY FITTING OF MY NEW PET!"

You look to the dog bed and the bowls. _Oh shit._ He's literally treating you as if you're a pet! 

"Hey, uh.. Master? Humans aren't the same as pets," you attempt to reason with him while simultaneously walking on eggshells. 

"YOU'RE RIGHT! PETS AREN'T SOMETHING WE HARVEST FOR THEIR SOULS, SO IF YOU'D RATHER BE TREATED LIKE A HUMAN..." He trails off, and you shake your head. You're already beginning to think that this timeline is a bust, but you haven't seen Papyrus just yet. There might be hope with him...

"GOOD! NOW THAT EVERYTHING'S CLEAR... I HAVE TO GO FINISH MY ROUNDS, BUT I'LL SEND THAT LAZY SHIT MUTT TO WATCH YOU!" 

"Your.." You cut yourself off before you ask him if he's talking about his brother. You might not be able to talk your way out of knowing that. Instead, you just nod and try to look as harmless as possible. "All right, Master."

"GOOD PET! YOU'RE A FAST LEARNER!" He praises you with a rough pat to the head, before he goes to the other side of your cage and locks the door behind him. "I SHALL RETURN TONIGHT, AND WE CAN TALK MORE! TRY NOT TO MISS YOUR MASTER TOO MUCH! MWEH HEH HEH!" With another glance over his shoulder, he finally leaves the shed. 

The second you hear his retreating steps crunching the snow, you stand up and begin checking your cell. The barbed wire looks rough, and when you kick the cage door with your boot, it doesn't bulge. Seems like he really locked it. 

You don't see a way out, and your cuts are stinging. The floor is a little dirtier than you'd like to sit on with the cuts on your legs--one in particular seems deeper than you first thought, and it's still sluggishly bleeding. So, you opt for sitting on the dog bed (which feels so degrading) and checking your wounds. There's one on your cheek, one on the side of your hand, several little ones on your forearms, a deep one on your left upper arm, and several across your legs, with the deepest one on your lower right leg. 

Now that you're just sitting still, you realize how much all of it stings, but there's really nothing you can do about it right now. You're too cold to rip up your dress to use as bandages, and the water is too dirty for you to wash off your wounds. You're stuck instead playing the waiting game and sitting in the silence of the shed.

Should you **RESET**? Or should you wait it out?

You attempt to wait it out, at least until you've seen Papyrus. If your assumptions are correct, his personality should be pretty close to the red-eyed Sans.. or maybe just an edgier version of the swap-Papyrus? You really aren't sure what to expect.

After about half an hour of sitting on that dog bed and staring at the door (which really felt like an eternity), it finally opens.

You stand up and cross your cage to meet Papyrus at the bars. He almost reminds you of the swap-Papyrus, his eyesockets narrowed in a way that made them appear half-lidded, with darkened circles beneath them that remind you of the other Sanses. There's a burning dog treat dangling from his sharpened teeth, and one of his fangs is gold--just like red-eyed Sans. Also like red-eyed Sans, he has a fur-lined black hoodie and a bright red collar around his neck. 

The reminders make your chest feel tight and your eyes sting. 

The sweater beneath his hoodie is as orange as the eyelights that are focused completely on you.

After a moment of sweeping his gaze along your body, he finally takes the dog treat between two fingers (you've seen the guard dogs smoking them before, and you actually tried one back in your original timeline. They're relaxing, even if they have a weird meaty flavor to them) and blows a long cloud of smoke toward you. "well, well. looks like m'lord really did trap a little pet."

His voice is low and smooth, sounding just like the swap-Papyrus's voice, only a little deeper. 

"He seems to think I'm a dog," you murmur, your voice coming out tiny. You're unsure how to approach Papyrus. If this one is as perceptive as the other one, then you might end up interrogated like you did in the other timeline. This Papyrus might be a little more sadistic with his interrogation techniques, however. 

Papyrus just chuckles at your remark, before taking another drag of the dog treat. You see the end of the little bone glow a bright red, before he exhales another curling wisp of smoke. "seems to be a theme. i bet m'lord's gonna grab you a collar." 

Your gaze drops to the collar around Papyrus's neck, and you blanch. Calling Sans master is bad enough, but having him tug you around by a collar while you're forced to sleep in the dog bed? That's overkill.

Deciding against sharing these misgivings right now, you attempt to smile. It comes out lop-sided and wrong. "I don't think we've been introduced. Are you Sans's brother?"

"you should probably get in the habit of callin' him master. jus' sayin'." Papyrus shrugs a little. "but yeah, i am. name's papyrus."

"Well.. it's nice to meet you, Papyrus."

He grunts, his gaze roaming your bloody dress. "you're injured."

"Oh. Yeah, I got caught in Sa--uh, Master's net."

He doesn't respond, instead just calmly standing there, watching you. "what's a human doin' down here?"

"Really wishing I wasn't," you reply honestly. You're tired. You're so tired of all of this. If you could go back, you never would have **RESET**. 

"your soul could help us get outta here. not that i really care one way or another." Papyrus shrugs again, before he sits down on the other side of the bars, one leg stretched out in front of him and the other bent. "yet m'lord is choosing to keep you instead. i don't really understand it. is there somethin' special about you?"

Is that a hint of jealous disdain you detect in Papyrus's voice? That's not good.

"He said I was the first human to really talk to him, so I think he's just interested in learning more about the Surface?" Now it's your turn to shrug. You feel awkward being the only one standing, so you opt to sit on the doggy bed again and feel absolutely ridiculous.

"well? do tell."

"It's..." How do you explain it? You want to say it's nothing like this, but you spent over a month in a world where the monster mafia dominated the Surface and kept the humans in check. And when it came down to it, the Surface wasn't much different than the Underground in your original timeline, either, but that may have been because you lived in New Ebott with Toriel. 

And the first time you had been on the Surface had been a hellish existence.

"...It's not all it's cracked up to be. Not much different than down here, honestly, except for the sun." You fidget with the hem of your dress.

He makes a sound of acknowledgement in the back of his throat. "then why bother wantin' to go back?" 

"So I don't have to sleep on a dog bed?" you try to force a laugh into your answer, but it falls as flat as your smile. You need to pull it together and see if you can charm Papyrus into letting you out of the cage--or at least into giving you some information. Maybe he once had a scientific background like the other Sanses? 

"heh, guess that really is _for the dogs_." He chuckles and when he finishes up his dog treat, he stands to move to a pot on the shelf with some sort of dead flower in it. He hides the butt of the dog treat in the soil and then dusts off his phalanges, before coming closer to the bars. "how bad's the cut on your leg?"

You glance down and realize it still looks like it's bleeding a little, as does the one on your arm. You've gotten blood on the dog bed. "It's about as bad as my arm. Those two are the worst of the cuts." You hold your arm out toward the bars, and he stares for a moment, before he finally sighs and unlocks the door. Hope blossoms in your chest, and he joins you inside the cage to kneel in front of you and hold out his hand. 

"gimme your arm and let me see it."

Obediently, you hold out your arm and he tears the fabric away from it to examine the cut. His rough bones graze your skin, and you shiver slightly, which causes him to look at your face. You feel your cheeks heat up and look away. 

... Are you _seriously_ getting flustered because he touched you? You must be remembering the Papyrus from the last timeline.

\-- or maybe the missed opportunity with the swap-Papyrus.

_Or does his clothing and that golden tooth just make you long for red-eyed Sans?_

"hold still. i'll see what i can do." Papyrus's voice brings you back into the present, and you're about to ask him what he means when you suddenly see his fingertips illuminate a soft green. Gingerly, he touches the cut, and you wince, but you're too confused about what's happening. 

The cut starts to close.

"You know healing magic?" you blurt, and his lazy grin lifts a little. 

"somewhat. it's handy around here, but i don't go advertisin' it." 

He's the first skelebro to ever use healing magic on you, so you're surprised that he can do it. When the cut is mostly closed, he takes his fingers away and then reaches out to grip your leg behind the knee. He forcibly extends your leg and then tears your leggings away from your thigh, which makes you blush all over again. His phalanges are skimming the flesh around the inside of your thigh, which is somehow both ticklish and slightly arousing, even given the circumstances. 

Yeah, it's definitely the missed opportunity with swap-Papyrus you're lamenting right now.

When you lift your gaze, you realize that Papyrus is watching you carefully, his expression guarded. Both of his hands are on your thigh, and while one begins to glow a soft green and heal the deep cut, the other skims the soft skin of your inner thigh again, slowly going further up your leg. You reach out and grab his wrist, but don't offer any resistance to stop him. 

He leans forward. "darlin', somethin' feels weird about you. it's almost as if..."

His statement is cut off by the shed door slamming open so hard that it smacks into the wall with a loud _bang_. Papyrus jumps as if he's been burned, tearing his wrist out of your grasp, and shooting to his feet. 

Sans is standing at the entrance to the cage, his fists balled on his hips. "WHAT WERE YOU DOING WITH MY NEW PET, YOU MUTT? WHO GAVE YOU PERMISSION TO TOUCH IT?!"

"It?" you mumble under your breath, your eyes narrowing. 

Papyrus speaks over you. "i was just healin' her wounds, m'lord. she was bleedin' on her bed and would surely ruin it."

Sans turns those bright blue eyelights to you, and his gaze lingers on the torn bits of your outfit, where your skin is now exposed. You glimpse his cheekbones turn a soft blue, and he nods. "YES, WELL.. THAT WOULD BE UNFORTUNATE. IT'S BEST THAT THE PET IS HEALED SO I CAN TAKE IT OUT ON WALKS, ANYWAY."

"... might i advise against walkin' the human through snowdin, m'lord?"

"I KNOW THAT, MUTT! I OBVIOUSLY MEANT IN OUR HOUSE! SPEAKING OF WHICH.." He's grinning as he strides into the cage, and Papyrus steps out of his way. Sans suddenly holds up a bright pink collar. Where he got it is questionable, but he seems quite pleased with himself. "HERE! I BOUGHT THIS SO EVERYONE WILL KNOW YOU'RE MINE!" 

Your attention momentarily shifts to the red collar around Papyrus's throat. The red-eyed Sans used to have a collar as well, and when you asked him about it one night, he told you that his brother had given it to him as a way to show ownership.

 _Ownership? Your brother wanted to show everyone he owned you?_ you had asked in disbelief. 

_it's not like that,_ red-eyed Sans had insisted. _when you're captain of the royal guard, no one messes with ya. with my low hp, it made sense that he would put somethin' around my neck that let everyone know that messin' with me meant messin' with him._

 _So, it was a deterrent,_ you had observed.

_you got it, sweetheart._

Is that what this Sans is doing now? Is he marking his family to keep other monsters from trying to harm them? 

Your fingers curl into the soft plush of the dog bed. Or is this Sans just delusional and marking both you and his brother as his pets?

You can't tell the difference, but you know one way or another, you're going to end up wearing that collar, so you might as well just do it willingly. "Thank you, S-..um.. Master. It's... a pretty collar." You force and smile and reach for it, but he draws it away at the last moment. 

"AH AH AHHHH," Sans wags his finger with each syllable. "I GET TO PUT IT ON YOU!" He sounds so excited over the prospect that you have to try not to laugh. Instead, you just shrug a little and move your hair away from your neck to allow him to step closer and put it around your throat. He locks the collar around your neck, his face awfully close to yours as he concentrates on locking the clasp. When he notices you staring at his face, his features light up blue again. 

As he pulls back, you glimpse Papyrus scowling at the two of you, but as soon as he notices your gaze, he quickly amends his expression and looks away, his hands buried in his pockets. 

"THERE! IT'S A PERFECT FIT, AS EXPECTED! NOW, HAS MY LAZY SHIT OF A BROTHER GONE OVER THE RULES WITH YOU?" Sans looks between you and Papyrus, and you look helplessly to Papyrus for the answer.

"not yet, m'lord. i was busy attending to her wounds first."

Sans scowls. "THAT SOUNDS LIKE AN EXCUSE TO ME! BUT FINE, I'LL GO OVER THEM MYSELF! YOU WILL OBEY ME AND ONLY ME, PET, BUT YOU WILL ALSO NOT GIVE PAPY ANY TROUBLE WHEN HE WATCHES YOU, EITHER! YOU WILL ONLY ADDRESS ME AS MASTER! AND YOU WILL STAY IN THIS CAGE UNTIL YOU'VE PROVEN YOU CAN FOLLOW MY DEMANDS! IS THIS CLEAR?"

You nod, looking between the brothers. "Okay, but may I ask you something...Master?" you tread carefully, trying to act nonthreatening.

"YES, YOU MAY, PET!"

"Is there any way I could get some clean water... and food not in a dog bowl? Maybe a glass and a plate?" You're trying not to offend Sans, but you can see his mood begin to sour. 

"WHAT? ARE MY PET PREPARATIONS NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU? YOU SHOULD BE HONORED THAT I HAVE CHOSEN TO SPARE YOU AT ALL!"

Shit, shit, don't push him. "O-oh, I am. It's just that, with pets, you usually change the water and food daily, so they don't get sick." You're trying to think on your feet, and you see Papyrus smirk from behind Sans. 

"it's true, m'lord. the human may fall ill if we don't take proper care of her."

"I KNOW THAT!" Sans puffs out his cheeks, just as the swap-Sans had in the other timeline. "I WAS JUST TESTING YOU BOTH! PAPY, YOU MAY CHANGE ITS WATER. AS FOR FOOD.. IF YOU'RE GOOD TONIGHT, YOU CAN HAVE SOME TOMORROW!" 

Well, you're not that hungry, so you can wait. At least you'll be getting some fresh water to drink. 

Papyrus doesn't move immediately, so Sans irritably turns toward him and stomps his boot against the floor. " _NOW_ , MUTT!"

"yes, m'lord." And with one last glance toward you, Papyrus exits the shed, leaving you alone with Sans. The smaller skeleton turns back toward you with a grin that looks slightly sadistic with Sans's features. 

He pulls a stool from the corner of the shed to the center of your cage and sits down. "SO TELL ME MORE ABOUT HOW THE HUMANS ON THE SURFACE QUIVER IN FEAR AT THE MENTION OF MY NAME!"

Better make it good. "Yeah, they all.. um, don't want to be captured by the Malevolent Sans. Everyone says your traps are impossible to escape from, and.. you're not the merciful type." 

You must have stroked his ego because he grins wider, leaning back on the stool. "THAT IS EXACTLY RIGHT! MY TRAPS ARE THE ABSOLUTE BEST! I BET YOU DIDN'T EVEN SEE THAT NET COMING!"

"The sharp wire was a nice touch," you add, absently rubbing one of the shallow cuts on your arms. 

"MWEH HEH HEH! YES, IT WAS! IT MAKES ESCAPE IMPOSSIBLE, JUST AS YOU SAID! AND IT IS INCREDIBLY RARE THAT I SHOW MERCY! IN FACT, THIS IS UNPRECEDENTED, SO YOU SHOULD CONSIDER YOURSELF TRULY FORTUNATE TO HAVE SOMEONE AS GREAT AND MALEVOLENT AS I SPARE YOU!"

You feel like in this instance, magnanimous would fit him better than malevolent, but you choose not to tell him that and give him a reason to have a change of heart. 

"I do, Master. Thank you for not harvesting my SOUL on the spot." Can't hurt to stroke his ego a little more. Maybe it'll get you out of this cage and into the house sooner. 

"AT LEAST YOU SEEM TO HAVE MANNERS, PET!"

"Have you.. gotten the chance to speak to many humans?" you decide to ask.

He scoffs, waving a gloved hand. "NO. THEY ALWAYS JUST SCREAM AND SCREAM OR ATTEMPT TO FIGHT ME. BUT A HUMAN IS NO MATCH FOR THE CAPTAIN OF THE ROYAL GUARD!"

Ah, so he is the captain, like the red-eyed Papyrus. That makes sense. "How could they be? Your magic is obviously powerful."

You may have pushed the flattery a little too far because Sans's smirk suddenly fades around the edges. He's quiet for a moment, and you feel your heart begin to speed up. Did you say something wrong?

"I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING."

Crap, yeah, you must have said something wrong. You stammer, trying to come up with something to reverse the situation, but Sans just stands from the stool and approaches you. He grips your chin again and tilts your head back.

"YOU'RE TRYING TO FLATTER ME TO GAIN YOUR MASTER'S AFFECTIONS! I CAN TELL FROM THE WAY YOU LOOK AT ME THAT YOU'RE COMPLETELY ENAMORED!"

Oh.. this again? Your mouth opens and closes; you're not quite sure what the right thing to say here is. 

"PET, IF YOU ARE NOT CAREFUL.." His voice drops lower, and he hooks a gloved finger beneath your collar, tugging it forward and forcing you to lean toward him. "YOU MAY BE GETTING A BONE FOR DINNER."

... Did... 

Did he just...?

"Oh..." Is that really all you can say? Your cheeks are flushed, and you're unable to keep yourself from wondering if all the skelebros have always been so sexually charged, or if you're just naturally seducing them at this point. 

Papyrus clears his throat loudly from behind Sans and the smaller skeleton actually flinches, his fingers dropping from your collar. You shift back on the dog bed, and Papyrus holds out a glass of water. "here. the water, as requested, m'lord."

"E-EXCELLENT, YES, GIVE THE WATER TO THE PET. I NEED TO GO.. FINISH UP SOME TRAP PREPARATIONS FOR TOMORROW. I SHALL BE BACK TO CHECK ON YOU THEN, PET, SO REMEMBER TO BEHAVE!" 

Looking a little flustered, Sans retreats from the shed, and Papyrus steps forward to hand you the water. You take a few small sips of it in an effort to cool your flushed cheeks, while he stares at you the entire time.

"...hey."

You raise your gaze over the rim of the glass toward Papyrus. He's wearing a sour expression. "Hm?"

"what was m'lord doin' just then?"

Your face flushes all over again. You're not about to tell Papyrus he was warning you that a bone was in your future if you kept praising him, so instead, you answer vaguely. "He was just warning me to follow the rules." It's a half-truth, at least.

Papyrus is still looking at your strangely. "huh. ok."

With his hands in his pockets, he leaves the cage and locks the door behind him. You can't help but feel a pang of disappointment. "You're leaving already?"

"what? ya gonna miss me, darlin'?"

"I was just hoping for some company."

"i'm sure m'lord would be happy to provide it to his _pet_ when he has time. for now, i'm done takin' care of ya." He lifts a hand in a semblance of a wave. "'night."

Before you can respond, he's gone. 

Sighing, you set down the half-empty glass on the floor and curl into the dog bed. It's big enough that your boots still hang off the bottom, but it's better than sleeping on the floor, you suppose. Still, the shed isn't heated, and your dress is still rather thin; you're as ill-prepared for the Snowdin cold as ever. It doesn't help that your dress and leggings have been ripped as well, and your clothes are damp from your trek through the snow and the landing after being cut down from the net. 

After a while of lying by yourself, weighing the pros and cons of just **RESET** ing now, you fall asleep shivering.

###### 

The next day, you wake up feeling stiff and cold. Your nose is running, your cuts are stinging, and your joints scream when you attempt to stretch your arms and legs. You sniffle and take your time attempting to stand up and stretch. 

You're even more sore than you were after your fun with the brothers in the last timeline. 

You end up pacing the cell for a while and trying to figure out what else the shed contains. It doesn't seem like there's anything useful, and even though the stool was left in your cage, it's not comfortable to sit on, and you can't find anything to reach if you stand on it. 

You're still cold, and you rub your palms along your arms in an effort to warm up.

After a few hours, Sans enters the shed with a plate of food. Your stomach starts growling, even though you hadn't realized you were hungry. You stand from the stool, and he gives you a sharp-toothed grin as he unlocks your cage. "EAGER, ARE YOU, PET? WELL, I DECIDED THAT AFTER YOUR OBEDIENCE LAST NIGHT, I COULD PERMIT YOU A MEAL!"

He hands you the plate, and your smile falls when you look down at its contents. It looks like it's a burrito.. but you _definitely_ see glitter spilling out the edges and onto the plate. 

You think back to the glitter tacos, as well as the even more unpleasant glitter vomit. You stomach churns.

"Uh... Master?" You feel uneasy.

"SAVE YOUR COMPLIMENTS AND FLATTERY FOR AFTER YOU'VE TAKEN A BITE, PET!"

"But, Master, I.. uh, I can't eat this." Sans's expression immediately darkens, his confident smirk falling in tandem with your heart swan-diving into your stomach. Hurriedly, you add, "I'll get sick."

"YOU'LL GET SICK?? THAT'S PREPOSTEROUS! IT SOUNDS LIKE ONE OF THAT SHITTY MUTT'S EXCUSES! ARE YOU _TOO GOOD_ TO EAT MY COOKING? THE HOME-COOKED, CULINARY DELIGHTS OF THE MALEVOLENT SANS?!"

"No, no, it's not that, it's just--" 

You break off as he steps forward and grasps the front of your collar, giving it a sharp tug. You're barely able to plant your feet on the ground enough to keep your balance on the stool and not tumble into the floor. His eyelights are small and focused, anger radiating from him. "IT'S JUST _WHAT_ , YOU WORM?"

Think fast, it's got to be believable..!

"I.. uh, I'm allergic to glitter, and.. and glue. All the crafting materials, really. It's a human thing. If I eat it, I could die." His grip on your collar loosens, and you see his scowl soften a little. Some of the tension drains from your shoulders. "You.. don't want to be known for not being able to care for a simple human.. right, Master?"

That comment hits home, and Sans recoils, his hand dropping from your collar. "O-OF COURSE I CAN TAKE CARE OF A SIMPLE PET HUMAN! I..I JUST DIDN'T REALIZE THERE WERE DANGERS LIKE THAT!" The words are indignantly spat in your direction, and he huffs as he snatches the plate from your hands. "YOU SHOULD HAVE SAID SOMETHING ABOUT THAT EARLIER!" 

Grumbling and flustered, Sans leaves re-locks the cage and leaves the shed. You blow out a breath and relax. It seems like he's easy enough to manipulate if you're careful with your phrasing, though if you stroke his ego enough, you'll likely end up in a situation where you're stroking something else.

That probably.. wouldn't be so bad. This Sans seems like the dominating type, but if you did happen to seduce him, you'd likely gain entrance to the house sooner, and possibly some more insight on the timeline--as well as earn his protection. The Captain having a pet human might actually allow you to move through the Underground without being killed on-sight, and if the Alphys... wait, Undyne? Yes, since this is a murderous version of that swapped timeline, it would probably be Undyne that would have the scientific knowledge. Maybe she could help you? 

Either way, you need to be trying to find help and clues about how to get back to your own timeline, rather than relying on your **RESET** ability--before you lose your chance entirely. 

When Sans returns, he's got another burrito on a plate, only this one doesn't contain any craft supplies. You start to inspect it to make sure when he hands you the plate, and his cheeks puff out in anger. "WHAT? YOU DON'T TRUST YOUR MASTER?"

"I.. uh.. thank you, Master," you murmur, before trying the burrito. 

It's actually pretty good. Maybe the tacos would have been edible without the glitter, too. The meat is a little charred, but overall, it's a decent burrito. You finish the entire thing while he watches, and while you chew your last bite, he taps his boot impatiently against the floor. 

"WELL??"

Oh, he's hoping for some compliments. You swallow the bite and give him a smile. "It was delicious. Thank you for remaking it for me, Master." Your smile becomes more sincere, and you see that blue blush light up his cheeks again. Another confident smirk slides across his face.

"OF COURSE IT WAS DELICIOUS! MY CULINARY CREATIONS ARE NOTHING SHORT OF ABSOLUTE PERFECTION!" Clearly satisfied, he takes the plate from your hands. "I HAVE TO DO MY PATROL NOW, BUT I'LL BE BACK TONIGHT. IN THE MEANTIME, THAT WORTHLESS MUTT CAN WATCH OVER YOU." 

"Okay. Have a good day at work," you offer, trying to appease him. His blush actually deepens. 

Maybe he's like the red-eyed Papyrus, and he's not really _that bad_ once you get to know him? The red-eyed Papyrus may have skewered you with a bone at one point, but when you lived with him and Sans on the Surface, the two of you had bonded, and he really wasn't that difficult to get along with. You feel like this Sans would be even easier to crack; he's much easier to fluster with praise and kind words.

He pauses at the door of the shed and turns back toward you a little. "HAVE A GOOD DAY AT WORK... WHAT?"

You stare at him blankly for a moment before what he wants registers. "Oh! Have a good day at work, Master?"

"YES. VERY GOOD, PET." Smirking, he finally leaves the shed, and you move to pick up what's left of your water and wash down your lunch. 

You sit in silence for a while longer, until Papyrus comes in. He motions for you to move from the stool to the bed, and you comply as he enters the cage. He sits down on the stool and pulls out a bottle of barbecue sauce from his jacket, then drinks it straight.

"Barbecue sauce?" you can't help but prompt. 

He grins. "that's not all that's in here, but yeah. want some?" He holds out the bottle toward you, and while you know there's bound to be some monster alcohol in there, too, you shake your head. 

"I'll pass, but thanks anyway."

"suit yourself, darlin'." Papyrus downs another long swig. "i'm just tryin' to get the glitter out of my mouth." His eyesockets narrow at you a little. "it's been a while since m'lord's made his special burritos. too bad humans are allergic to glitter, so i had to eat 'em instead."

You can tell he doesn't buy your excuse in the slightest, so you just give him a sheepish smile. "Yeah... it's too bad. They looked pretty good."

"'course. they tasted as good as they looked." It doesn't sound like he's being sarcastic, but he does pull out a cigarette and light it up. It's not a dog treat this time, so you suppose he must alternate? Or maybe he just ran out. "so... sleep well?" He's eyeing the bed and how much smaller it is than you.

"About as well as can be expected on a dog bed in a cold shed," you respond, your smile tightening. 

"that's about what i thought," he responds with a shrug. He doesn't really seem much for conversation, so the two of you lapse into silence while he smokes. The entire time, he keeps staring at you, and it looks like he's thinking about something.

A part of you wants to use the code phrase, but... 

You know it's not him. If anything, this Papyrus is close to the swap-Papyrus, but it's still not _him_ , either. 

The way he's staring at you so observantly is unnerving, however, so you finally blurt, "Why do you call your brother m'lord?"

Your sudden inquiry seems to catch him off-guard, and he straightens from his slouched position on the stool and blows out a large puff of smoke. "why not? he's pretty great, isn't he? captain of the guard, and really powerful. it suits him." He shrugs.

"But... he just calls you a mutt all the time," you point out. 

Papyrus's gaze darkens a little. "heh, it suits me, too. so why don't ya keep your obvious statements to yourself, huh?" 

"Sorry." You must have hit a sore spot in trying to figure out their relationship. Well, it's not like Sans calls him mutt every time; you heard him call him Papy as well. So, perhaps he doesn't actually mean the mutt thing? 

"don't be." He waves his hand and drops his cigarette butt on the floor to grind the embers out beneath his shoe. The two of you lapse into silence again, just staring at each other, his expression veiled. You draw your knees closer to your chest, trying to trap body heat and warm up a little. You've gotten used to the cold, but every now and then, you can't help but shiver. After a while, he finally stands up. "welp, i'm gonna go to muffet's. i'm sure m'lord will be back to check on you soon."

"Okay." You really want to ask him to stay--or to bring you back something--but you do neither. Instead, you just offer him a smile. "I'll see you later then, Papyrus."

With a wave of his hand over his shoulder, he leaves you alone in the shed again.

###### 

Hours later, Sans bounds back inside. He stays for about an hour, and you listen to him talk about his traps the entire time, as well as how all of Snowdin both respects and fears him. You try to refrain from stroking his ego too much. 

"Oh, really? How did you come up with that trap?"

"THESE THINGS JUST COME NATURALLY TO SOMEONE AS AMAZING AND TALENTED AS I AM!"

By the end of the conversation, he comes over to you and suddenly blushes blue again. "H-HOLD STILL A MOMENT, PET!" 

Red flags go off, and Sans removes one of his gloves to reveal a skeletal hand. You're unsure what's about to happen and start to flinch as he reaches toward you, but... he simply cups your cheek, cradling it within his phalanges. You stare at his expression as his fingers pinch your skin and poke the softness of your flesh. 

"I.. I WAS WONDERING WHAT SKIN FELT LIKE! PAPY TOLD ME THAT HUMANS HAVE A SKELETON BENEATH THEIR SKIN! IS THAT TRUE?" 

You blink in surprise, before a genuine smile curves your lips at his expression--it's so filled with wonder! "Yes, it's all true." You suddenly worry that he'll try to peel off your skin to get a look, so you add, "But.. it's not good for a human's skeleton to show. It's another thing that could kill them, easily." 

"THAT'S TOO BAD. BUT IT IS RATHER INTERESTING! LET ME SEE YOUR HAND, PET!"

You obey, albeit a bit reluctantly. Sans takes your hand in his and presses against the top of your hand, feeling for the metacarpals that make up your palm. "WOWZERS, I CAN ACTUALLY FEEL YOUR BONES!" His bright blue eyelights roam the rest of your body, and you imagine him trying to envision you without clothes--or skin. It's a little unsettling. 

You grip his hand to draw his attention. "I find your bones just as interesting, Master."

His cheekbones light up again, and he withdraws his hand to put his glove back on. "WHY WOULDN'T YOU? SKELETONS MUST SEEM FASCINATING TO SOMEONE WHO CAN'T SEE THEIR OWN!" His plants his fists on his hips again, smirking despite the heat to his cheeks. "PERHAPS ONE DAY, YOU'LL BE LUCKY ENOUGH THAT I'LL ALLOW YOU A PEEK AT MORE OF MY BONES!"

You can't tell if he's still being flirtatious enough, but you just smile and nod, trying to remain neutral. You still haven't decided if you're going to seduce him, though it's looking more and more appealing to get out of this situation. 

Sans leaves for the night now that he's done feeling your bones, but he promises to check on you again tomorrow. 

After a while, you fall asleep on the dog bed, your body drawn up into a ball to ward off the chill.

###### 

When you wake up the next morning, you actually feel warm and forget that you're sleeping on a dog bed in the skelebros' shed. Something is tickling your nose.

You glance down to discover that Papyrus's fur-lined black coat has been draped over you as a blanket, its hood drawn up to your face. It smells heavily of pine, some sort of must, smoke, and barbecue sauce. The gesture brings a smile to your face, and you wrap yourself up tighter in the coat--which engulfs your frame. There's also a fresh glass of water beside your bed and a little brown bag, which you open up to reveal a Spider Donut. 

This is.. unexpected. 

You didn't think you were making any leeway with Papyrus, but perhaps all his staring helped you. Either way, you devour the Spider Donut and down the water in a hurry. As much as you want to remain wrapped up in his coat, you don't want to deal with explaining how you obtained it to Sans, so you carefully fold it up and stash it between the dog bed and the wall. The paper bag slips beneath the bed to be out of sight. 

Feeling better today, you sit on the bed and eagerly watch the door. You're expecting Sans to come before work, but he never shows. Instead, it's Papyrus that waltzes in, his orange sweater clearly visible without the jacket. "mornin' darlin'," he greets, coming to unlock the cage door. When he sees you're not wearing his coat, he quirks a bony brow. "here i thought you were cold, but i guess i was wrong." 

"It's not that. I just didn't know if you told Sans you have it to me," you admit, which causes both his brows to raise.

"heh, i didn't know you were that good at hidin' things. smart girl." Chuckling, he strides over to you, dragging the stool so he can sit directly in front of you. Once seated, he slouches forward, leaning in with his forearms draped across his knees. "i wonder what other kinda things you're hidin'."

"...W-what do you mean?" you manage around the sudden lump in your throat. Looks like he's just as perceptive as the swap-Papyrus.

"i wonder.." His voice trails, and he leans even closer. You don't lean away, instead attempting to call his bluff by challenging his stare. "let's start with how ya ended up down here, hm?"

"I fell."

"did'ya now?"

"Yeah, I did." Well, that's how it all started, anyway. You may have wanted to disappear, but when you stood at the edge of the abyss as a young girl, your head filled with fantastical stories of creatures spiriting humans away in the mountain, well... 

You decided you wanted to be spirited away, too.

That may not be how you ended up in _this_ Underground, but it's how you ended up Underground in the first place. 

"even though the humans have somehow heard about m'lord's feats. that right?"

Shit, he's seeing through your lies. You have to hold strong. "T-that's right, yeah."

"bullshit." He leans closer, his eyelights locked with yours, and reaches out to grab your hair at the nape of your neck, forcing your head back to look up at him. You wince, gasping at the unexpected roughness. "i don't know what your angle is, or what's really goin' on, but i know there's no way that's true. and darlin', i also know there's somethin' strange about you.."

You decide to roll the dice. "What? Do... do you feel like you know me?" You heart is thundering in your chest as he stares at you.

His fingers tighten in your hair, slight pain blooming in your scalp. "yeah, that's exactly it. i can't quite say why, but i feel like i do, and like i know things about you.. and that can only mean one thing." He's barely a breath away, his other hand bracing his weight against the wall beside your head so he can loom without losing his balance on the stool. 

"you have somethin' to do with those **reset** s don't you?"

Your eyes go wide. "You know about the **RESET** s?"

"so you're admittin' it. are you and that temmie in cahoots, or what?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. There's a Temmie that can **RESET**? It's not a talking flower?"

"are you talkin' about flowey village? no, there's nothin' like that. just this sick, demented temmie runnin' around everywhere, doing as they please." The mental image of a Temmie actin as Flowey, telling you that in his world it's _h0I or g00db0I_ comes to mind. "and now you have somethin' to do with it, right?"

If you don't stop him, he's going to rip your hair out. Clearly, whatever he's experienced with the **RESET** s has been terrible, but if he knows about them, then maybe he's been working on something related to them? 

"N-no, I don't! Look, I'll be honest with you if you loosen your grip on my hair," you stammer out, and he complies fractionally. It's enough to ease the headache that was starting to build. 

"make it good, darlin'."

"I came from another timeline. This is my first time in this one, but I've experienced other versions of you and Sans." He's clearly skeptical, so you sigh and decide to attempt to rattle off some things you know about him. "You or Sans like the stars--probably Sans? And you used to work in the Lab? Probably before Undyne became the Royal Scientist, but maybe after..?" Ugh, your details of the swap-timeline are pretty cloudy. "I've.. uh, I've met another version of you. One in a world that's more peaceful. Don't you feel like you know me?"

His fingers relax a little more in your hair. "... yeah, i do feel like i know you." 

"Good. I'm sorry about lying, but I'm trying to figure out a way back to my timeline. You did used to work in the Lab, right?"

"no one knows about that. not even sans," Papyrus claims, and you can tell from his tone that he's believing you. You start to relax; looks like he's not going to kill you for some transgression a Temmie performed after all. 

"Now do you believe me?"

"...it makes sense. after all, i feel like i know things about you. i knew how soft your hair would be..." His fingers turn from gripping your hair to combing through the tendrils. "i felt like i _needed_ to make sure you weren't cold, that i _needed_ to bring you food."

You're relaxing into his touch, leaning your head back into his fingers. They feel nice against your scalp, massaging the ache from it. 

"and there's something else i feel like i know..."

"Hm?" The quizzical sound issues from the back of your throat. 

"what your lips feel like wrapped around my cock."

Memories of the _gratuitous favor_ you bestowed upon swap-Papyrus come flooding back, even though it feels as if it happened a lifetime ago. You try to think of something to say to it, but suddenly, Papyrus's mouth crashes upon yours. The kiss is borderline desperate, like he's trying to relive some sort of memory, and his fangs poke and probe at your lips until you part them for his tongue. It tangles with yours, magic tingling throughout your body, and he shifts to move off the stool. His knees go on either side of your legs in the dog bed, and he bends over you, wrapping an arm around your back to force it to arch so he can deepen the kiss. 

You melt into it, forgetting your situation and allowing yourself to become drunk in his kiss. He knocks over the glass of water and it goes rolling across the floor, but neither of you even notice. Your hands are under his sweater, clutching his ribs, making him groan into the kiss. His hand palms your breast through your dress, squeezing it possessively, and he breaks the kiss to run his fangs along the side of your neck. You gasp and tighten you grip on his ribs, your arms moving to lift his sweater out of the way. 

You're tired and sore, but you feel as if he's part of what you lost with red-eyed Sans, coupled with the missed opportunity with swap-Papyrus. It doesn't matter if you're making out on a dog bed or not; you want to forget, you want to indulge, and then you can ask him if he has any insight on the **RESET** s, any way to possibly help you get back to where you belong. 

He bites the juncture of your neck and shoulder so hard that it breaks the skin a little, and then he kisses you again, backing you up so that your head touches the wall behind you. His arm tightens on your back, drawing your body flush against his, and he uses his other hand to begin to hike your dress above your hips. Your rack your fingers along his spine, while your other hand comes up to grab the back of his neck, fingers sliding beneath the thick collar

\---and then a gust of cold air hits you both as Sans kicks open the door to the shed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Fanart:**  
>  The incredible kissthethunder drew this [amazing picture of Sans and the Reader during the reunion chapter.](https://tyranttortoise.tumblr.com/post/158462376033/asksansallthethings-a-little-something-for) And she was great enough to let me watch her draw this and spend the day chatting! <333 
> 
> The amazing remaning-head-spirits drew [Mob!Red and Frisky Reader](https://tyranttortoise.tumblr.com/post/158568195563/remaining-head-spirits-just-whatre-ya-doin?is_related_post=1) during the same chapter, from their initial meeting, and also [this picture of Frisky Reader](https://tyranttortoise.tumblr.com/post/158709544844/remaining-head-spirits-eexcuse-me-did-you?is_related_post=1) wearing Sans's sweater while Edge tells her what he thinks of her during the Mob!fell surface chapters. 
> 
>  
> 
> [And here's a link to my tumbr.](https://tyranttortoise.tumblr.com/)
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you, everyone that's stuck with me through my sporadic updates! 
> 
> While Swapfell still has at least another chapter or two left, what are some other AU's you guys want to see? G!Sans and Error are confirmed, but other than that, it's wide open. Once G!Sans hits, we're going to be three chapters away from the ending, just as a heads up.


	13. *You're disobedient

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Your master wants to stake his claim, but you just want to go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo, I lied about when I was going to update this. Sorry about that! 
> 
> **Smut warning.**

You feel Papyrus instantly tense, his hands freezing with your dress still clutched in his fingers. The temperature drop in the shed feels like it's from more than just the wide-open door exposing the interior to the snowy conditions outside. No, it feels like it has more to do with the sharp glare you _know_ is fixated on the both of you. 

Your fingers retreat from around his neck, as if you could hide the passionate embrace by concealing your arm from Sans. Your other hand quickly removes itself from beneath his sweater, but you find yourself clutching the front of the fabric desperately as you attempted to shrink beneath Papyrus.

His expression reflects the same _oh shit_ feeling that has your heart hammering in your chest. 

You've been caught by your _Master._

The door suddenly slams shut with enough force to jar the doorframe. There's a tense silence that makes you wonder if perhaps the universe had decided to show you Mercy, and Sans may have left.

_Click._

The sharp sound of the lock clicking in place punctuated the silence, dashing every bit of hope you held onto, and you felt Papyrus's arm momentarily tighten on you. It seemed like he was going to protect you from whatever wrath was about to rain down upon you both, and you felt a surge of gratitude well in your chest. 

And then he pushes you away, effectively breaking your hold on his sweater, and whirls around to face his brother. 

The back of your head connects painfully with the wall, jarring you enough that your teeth clack together, but once you regain your senses, you focus on Sans. He is calmly standing in the open doorway of the cage, staring directly at you in silence. His eyelights seem dim--a darker shade of blue, perhaps?--as they roll over your body, making you feel bare. Can he see the teeth imprint of Papyrus's fangs marring your shoulder? Can he tell that your lips are swollen from the kiss, and the way the lankier skeleton desperately nipped and prodded at them? Can he see the way your hair is mused and balled up from his brother's commanding grip?

Deliberately, you pull the hem of your dress over your hips.

Papyrus breaks the silence. "m'lord, i can--"

The words die in his throat as Sans turns his icy glare toward him. "YOU _WHAT_ , MUTT?" he snaps, his teeth clicking with the force he uses to bite off the words. "YOU DECIDED THAT YOU WANTED TO TOUCH MY PROPERTY?" He strides forward, his footfalls heavy against the creaking floorboards. You wince with every step, attempting to pull yourself further onto the dog bed. Sans stops before his brother, and although there's an obvious height difference, Papyrus is heavily slouching in submission to make it less obvious. 

Sans's hand darts out and grabs the front of Papyrus's collar, jerking him forward so that their faces are even closer to eye-level. "DID YOU THINK YOU WERE WORTHY OF TOUCHING MY PET? OF BEING CALLED MASTER?" His features, which were twisted in a scowl, shift into a cruel, mocking smile. "NOT A CHANCE."

"m'lord, i-i was just--"

Sans tugs harder on his collar, before violently shoving Papyrus backwards. You see a tinge of blue ripple from Sans's arm, and you realize he utilized his magic to effectively throw Papyrus across the room. 

You need to get out of here. 

He's going to kill you both.

You start to move, your fight or flight instincts kicking in as you eye the open door of the cage. As soon as you rock forward on the bed, your body tensing in preparation to sprint wildly for your life, Sans barks, " **D O N ' T M O V E .** "

In that moment, his voice is so much deeper that it's reminiscent of your timeline's Sans--

( ** _*y o u ' r e g o n n a h a v e a b a d t i m e ._** )

\--and you instantly freeze, your heart jumping into your throat. Even Papyrus appears surprised as he slowly picks himself off from the floor, eyelights shifting between you and his brother. 

" _m'lord,_ j-j-just listen to me!" There's a twinge of desperation in his tone, a nervous stammer giving away his fear.

"NO, _YOU_ LISTEN TO _ME_!" Sans demands, advancing on his brother. Papyrus is in a half-standing position with his back against the wall and his knees bent. "YOU'RE A WORTHLESS MONGREL, AND IF YOU THINK I'M GOING TO TOLERATE YOU GETTING YOUR DROOL ON WHAT'S _MINE_ , YOU'RE DELUSIONAL!" He reaches beside Papyrus and grasps a short length of chain affixed to the wall. "I NEED TO TEACH YOU YOUR PLACE, MUTT!"

Sans clips the chain to Papyrus's collar, effectively leashing him to the wall. You feel the last dregs of your hope fade. It wasn't as if it appeared that Papyrus would stand up to his brother, but now the slim possibility of him helping you escape your fate has been obliterated. After this, the chance of Papyrus being able to help you understand the **RESET** s is practically nil. 

Sans whirls around and faces you, his expression dark and filled with... betrayal? 

"YOU'RE _BOTH_ ABOUT TO LEARN YOUR PROPER PLACE!"

You should run. If you can't escape the cage, then escape the timeline.

Your body is shaking. You try to summon the button, but just as the option flickers into your mind, Sans grabs your collar and jerks your face closer to his, breaking your concentration. 

" _I_ AM YOUR MASTER, PET! I'M THE ONLY ONE THAT GETS TO TOUCH YOU LIKE THAT!"

His teeth suddenly crash into your mouth, and you're so startled that you open your mouth to gasp, causing your teeth to painfully scrape against his. He's kissing you with the same desperation as Papyrus, his tongue manifesting to fill your mouth, delving in too deep and nearly making you cough. He tastes like spice and burritos. 

You make a sound in the back of your throat, trying to tell him that he's being too aggressive, but he doesn't seem to realize it. Either that, or he doesn't care. There's no finesse to the movement of his tongue, no pleasurable roll or dominate pin like with his brother. Instead, he moves it like he's just trying to sweep it around your entire mouth.

His eyesockets are open, and although his face is pressed to yours and you have to look at him cross-eyed, you can tell his eyelights are boring into your gaze, much brighter than before.

Sans begins to pull your dress up, but you're sitting on the hem and don't move to help, so he simply lets out a frustrated growl and rips it up the middle.

Your dress never seems to survive the timeline hops.

You press your palms to his chest, and he finally breaks the kiss to allow you so much needed breathing room. "YOU'VE WANTED THIS FROM THE VERY BEGINNING. THE WAY YOU KEPT FLIRTING WITH ME..." He trails, his teeth lifting in a confident smirk as his eyelights traverse your curves. He sheds his gloves in the next instant, immediately gripping your breast through your bra afterward. You feel the pointed tips of his phalanges dig into your squishy flesh and wince. He's gripping a little too tight. "THE WAY YOU GRABBED MY SPINE WHEN WE FIRST MET..." His gaze finds yours, and his smirk looks so smug, so self-assured. "I KNEW THEN THAT YOU WERE A WANTON MISTRESS OF THE NIGHT!"

A wanton...

"What?" you blurt, unable to hold your tongue any longer. "That was an accident!"

"IT WAS NO ACCIDENT, PET, JUST AS IT WAS NO ACCIDENT YOU CAME HERE!" His fingers hook into the cup of your bra, and he pulls, flipping the material upside-down to expose your skin to him. Your breath hitches; does he remember you, like Papyrus does? Does he have any residual feelings from another Sans--or perhaps the swap-Sans or red-eyed Papyrus? 

"YOU KNEW ABOUT ME ON THE SURFACE, AND YOU WERE IN MY TRAP, CALLING MY NAME! YOU FELL UNDERGROUND JUST TO MEET ME, PET, OBVIOUSLY ENAMORED BY THE TALES OF MY EXPLOITS!" Your heart drops into your stomach. False alarm; he's just drawing farfetched conjectures from your lies. 

... That's not the first time that's happened, you realize.

"I'VE NEVER HAD A HUMAN FAN BEFORE, AND FAR BE IT FOR ME TO DENY YOU YOUR HEART'S GREATEST DESIRE BEFORE YOUR SOUL IS HARVESTED-- _ME_."

Your mouth opens and closes. He's got it wrong, but you know attempting to point that out will either be fruitless or deadly.

His thumb suddenly rolls over your exposed nipple, and you gasp at the unexpected touch, your back arching against his hand. His satisfied smirk only widens, as if your response has confirmed all of his suspicions. "SEE? IT'S REALLY _ME_ YOU WANT! NOT MY USELESS BROTHER!" Sans leans in, flipping the other cup of your bra downward to expose the rest of your chest. He flicks his tongue along your chest, starting at the underside of your breast and finishing with a flick of the tip against your nipple. You gasp again, arching, your face flushed.

For someone that seems inexperienced at kissing, he's got the right idea. 

Weren't you going to **RESET**...?

"I'M GOING TO MAKE YOU FORGET THAT PATHETIC MUTT EVER TOUCHED YOU!" Sans vows, his voice low and husky. 

... What's the rush? You might as well stick around and see where this goes. You were considering seducing Sans earlier to gain access to the rest of the Underground, and that desperate kiss with Papyrus turned you on. Sure, the fear that left you trembling when Sans kicked the door in was a turn-off, but now... with his phalanges on your skin and his warm breath ghosting across your damp flesh, your face is flushed.

Sans grabs you by the collar, jerking your face to meet his again in another bruising kiss. This time, you try coaxing his tongue and leading him, but his ecto-tongue is too powerful and erratic, swirling inside your mouth and drinking in your taste. With his firm grip on your collar, it's difficult to breathe, but... it's not like you never did collar play with red-eyed Sans. 

_If you just close your eyes, you can pretend._

He pinches your nipple between his fingers, and while the rough touch is borderline painful, it also elicits a sharp gasp from you that leaves you exhaling on a shaky sigh. It's not bad. 

Sans releases your breast to slide his hand along the curve of your stomach, his phalanges pressing into the soft flesh experimentally, as if seeing how much give your abdominal cavity has. You remember his previous exploration of your hands--of how fascinated he was over the quality your skin had, stretched taunt over your bones. His exploration of your exposed skin now is similar. The frantic nature of his tongue has quelled as he concentrates on feeling your flesh. His phalanges dip beneath the waistband of your leggings, sliding down further, and you feel your heart racing.

Only this time, the catalyst isn't fear. It's anticipation.

When his hand slides lower between your legs, and you find your knees parting to provide easier access, he pulls back from the kiss with a momentarily look of surprise. Quickly, he amends it, his snide smirk sliding back in place, triumph shimmering in his eyelights. 

"PAPY!" He suddenly turns to Papyrus, and--oh _man_ , you forgot he was there! You had gotten so wrapped up in your fantasy, willing his touch to replace every other feeling, that you forgot about the orange, simpering gaze boring holes into the both of you. "ARE YOU WATCHING?" 

Of course he is. Papyrus's body is taunt, and the short length of chain is stretched as far as it can go. He's leaning, his neck pulling against the leash, and his hands balled into tight fists at his sides. 

You lock eyes.

"THE HUMAN DOESN'T WANT A MUTT LIKE _YOU_! SHE WANTS HER _MASTER_." 

His phalange delves inside you--and sure enough, you're soaked. Admittedly, though, your arousal was from the make-out session with Papyrus, and you're not nearly as wet as you were in that moment. 

However, you're still aroused enough to be sensitive, and the abrupt pressure of his finger is enough to cause you to suck in a breath and involuntarily reach out to grab Sans, intent on steadying yourself. The motion makes you break eye contact with Papyrus, but you miss the top portion of the smaller skeleton's battle body and grasp onto his exposed spine. Sans groans, his finger pressing deeper within you and his grip simultaneously tightening on your collar.

"YOU WANT ME THAT BAD, DO YOU, PET? WELL--"

The sentence is cut off as his gaze shifts away from you, where the edge of Papyrus's jacket is peeking from the side of the dog bed. He pauses, releasing his grip on your collar to yank the apparel from its hiding spot and dangle it in your face. With a snarl, he slings the offending article of clothing toward Papyrus.

His probing finger never leaves you.

"I WANT YOU TO WATCH, MONGREL. WATCH AS I CLAIM WHAT'S MINE, WHAT YOU CAN NEVER HAVE, SO THAT YOU LEARN TO THINK TWICE BEFORE YOU TOUCH MY PROPERTY!" 

Sans's attention turns back to you, and you feel his heated gaze greedily staring at the visage of your exposed torso. 

You can't look at Papyrus again, but you can hear the chain rattle against the wall as he strains against it. 

His expression had been so angry, so accusing--

_so betrayed._

Guilt blooms in your chest again, and not even the feeling of Sans's finger exploring you from the inside or his exclamation of "YOU'RE SO WARM, PET! SO HOT, SO WET! SO... READY."

The guilt's heavy, pushing in from every side, catapulting you from your fantasy back into reality. Sans lets go of your collar to attempt to move your stationary hand at his spine, to get you to stroke his vertebrae in just the right spot, but your fingers are lax and uncooperative. 

Are you really going to let Sans plow you on a dog bed while his brother watches? Just because you want to see what would happen--because nothing is permanent in these timelines? 

Sans huffs when you refuse to stimulate his spine, but he's unperturbed. He'll just get his stimulation elsewhere. His hand leaves yours and moves to his pants. 

"No," you whisper, the word shaky. You can't. You changed your mind. You need to **RESET** , to get out of here, to get away from Papyrus's jilted stare and Sans's haughty smirk. 

Before you can concentrate enough to summon the power, however, Sans suddenly gets an orange glow around him. Unable to react quickly enough, Sans gets thrown across the room, and Papyrus shortcuts to your side. Distantly, you realize that there are still a few loops of the chain dangling from his collar, but in the next moment, he tosses his jacket over you and drags you against his chest.

"PAPY!" Sans's shout is filled with complete and utter disbelief, and Papyrus flinches. You feel the air crackle, and in the next moment, there's the disorientation of teleporting that drowns out the rest of Sans's angry tirade.

###### 

To say Papyrus isn't having a good day would be an understatement. 

He decides to take a shortcut to Waterfall, hoping that his brother wouldn't be aware of the many caverns within the region. Papyrus had sentry duty through the area on several occasions--for a supposed _lazy good-for-nothing_ , he held quite a few jobs--and had taken the time to scout for the best places to slack without getting caught. 

The cave he appeared in with you gathered against his chest was one such place.

He feels you shiver and draw closer to his chest, but it only furthers his annoyance. He pushes you away without giving you a chance to regain your bearings, and you fall backwards, flat on your rump. His jacket pools in your lap, but he watches as you hurry to drag it over your torso, your gaze reluctantly lifting to meet his.

_Guilt_. He can read it in your eyes so easily. He had been able to from the first moment he saw you in the shed. It practically radiated from your body. That kind of burden was what made him originally think you had something to do with the **RESET** s that had been occurring in his timeline. You had done something...

Now, maybe he was wondering if it was a _someone_ instead.

He looks away, unable to stomach seeing that guilt. Stars, he could use a dog treat, but his stash is empty. He needs something to calm his nerves; they're pulled taunt, like a wire ready to snap. 

... Just like he kind of wants to snap your neck. 

It would make him feel better, and it's not like it would matter, right? You would just **RESET** , apparently.

"...Thank you," you murmur, your voice sounding small. He can see you draw your knees closer to your chest in his peripheral, but he's still glaring at the stone wall. 

"for what? you wanted to fuck 'im." His voice comes out flat, but with a tinge of venom. 

"N-no, that's not it! I just--"

"wanted to fuck my bro," Papyrus interjects, and you make a frustrated sound in the back of your throat. 

"No! I didn't want him to kill me."

" **l i a r .** "

Papyrus finally looks at you again, and there's the _damn guilt_ in your eyes, only now they're shimmering with unshed tears. You're shaking, and he can't tell if it's because you're cold, scared, or simply shaken. 

You're silent for a moment, before you tilt your chin up and grip yours knees tighter. The shaking stops. "I didn't see you coming to help me."

That chin tilt--that defiant, challenging stare--feels so familiar. 

Everything about you does, really. Whenever Papyrus interacts with you, he has so many conflicting emotions. Most of them involve protecting or providing for you, but he also...

Stars, he wants to fuck you so bad. 

It's a weird need to claim you, to connect with you as deep as he can. Even after being forced to watch you and his brother on that dog bed. He would likely never be able to unsee that image. The way your back arched, the soft gasps and sharp inhales--he thought he would break his neck, he had pulled so hard on the chain to reach you. 

However, it was the moment when you had finally revoked your consent that he found the strength to stand up to his brother and get you out of there. 

And now, he would likely be killed. Or you would be killed while he was forced to watch. Or maybe you'd be fucked and then he'd be killed. 

Or maybe Sans would rut you right there in Papyrus's dust. 

Ever since Sans rose through the ranks of the Royal Guard and achieved his dreams, he had looked down on Papyrus. That was fine; Papyrus was more than happy to support him, even if he'd had to change Sans's title from _bro_ to _m'lord_. It fit someone as great as Sans. In that time, Sans's treatment of Papyrus had grown worse, but still, the lanky skeleton didn't care.

He didn't care about much these days. 

And he also would have never considered using a magic attack on his brother if it hadn't been for you. The sound of Sans shouting in disbelief, in vehement betrayal, would be another think that would haunt Papyrus's nightmares.

But that's all right.

"it'll all jus' be **reset** , anyway," he completes the thought aloud, and you start at the mention of a **RESET**. 

"That's why you didn't try to help me when Sans caught us?" you quietly inquire.

Papyrus hums in the back of his throat. "isn't that why ya let him do whatever? because nothin's permanent, so why not enjoy yourself?"

You're quiet for a long moment, the silence filled with the ambient sounds of Waterfall. Papyrus hears you shift, the fabric of his coat moving, and then he feels a hand on his arm. He stares at your fingers instead of looking at you. 

"You're right." 

He wasn't expecting you to admit it. He scoffs, and the chuckle that follows it is bitter. "you remember, though. no one else does, but _you_ do."

You know he's not _just_ talking about you.

"I..." You draw in a shaky breath and loop your arm through his. Papyrus doesn't protest, even as you move closer, trapping his elbow between your breasts and resting your forehead against the side of his shoulder. "Something happened, and it was because of me... and ever since then, I just... I can't get back to fix it. And, I... I can't fix _me_." 

It's the rawness in your voice that causes him to finally turn his head to gaze at your face, and when he does, your eyes are swimming with tears. 

The guilt within them is almost too much to look at now.

"You're right. _I_ remember what happens. I remember what I did, and I... I just want to feel something other than--than _this_... y-you know?"

Your voice cracks, and Papyrus swears under his breath.

" _fuck_."

And then he turns and pulls you flush against him, cupping your face to tilt your chin up, and kissing you hard in one fluid motion. 

If there is anyone that can understand that feeling--the feeling of wanting to feel something other than _this_ constant feeling that he hides beneath that lazy grin--well... it's Papyrus. He needs to lose himself as much as you. At least, that's what he tells himself. Otherwise, it would have something to do with how familiar this feels, with how much he wants to thread his phalanges through your hair and tip your head further back, or how much he wants to sink his fangs into your shoulder so the world knows (and, yes, even his brother) he was there.

He backs you up against the wall of the cave in three quick steps, the thick jacket pulled around your shoulders protecting your back from the rough surface. The kiss feels nothing like the one with his brother. While it's just as needy, his tongue plays with yours, coaxing it into his mouth, where he can scrape his sharpened teeth against it. You clutch onto his sweater, and he rocks his pelvis against yours through your leggings. His hands move along the sides of your body, squeezing your hips, before trailing to the outside of your thighs. His hands grip them, and then he lifts you up, repositioning you so your legs are around his waist. 

You jerk the hem of his sweater up, your legs wrapping around his lower spine to grind your pelvis into his. You can already feel the bulge there, and when he breaks he kiss to move his teeth to your neck, you notice the dim orange glow in the cavern. 

Papyrus suddenly growls, and both his hands go to your neck, gripping your collar. "i hate this stupid thing bein' in my way." Grunting, he pulls with enough force that the locked clasp snaps and the offending collar clatters to the ground. "much better," he murmurs, returning his face to your neck and lavishing it with his tongue. 

Your fingernails skin the inside of his spine, and he shudders against you, hands digging into your sides. Your hand moves lower, feeling over the bumps and grooves of his sacrum, before moving to the inside of his pelvic girdle. His pubis bone was incredibly warm beneath your fingertips, and you knew that his magical cock was protruding from the other side of it, so you pressed down, drawing a surprised moan from him.

" _stars_ , darlin'. you really have done this before, huh?" 

***wonder if it's been with some other version of me, or...?**

His hand slips beneath the waistband of your leggings, and as soon as his fingers reach your folds, he sucks in a deep breath. You're soaked, so turned on by the kiss, by the way he has you pinned in a cave in Waterfall. 

" _i'm_ the one that turned you on." He pulls back from your shoulder to hold your gaze. "not m'lord-- _not_ sans." 

It isn't phrased as a question, but from the intensity of his probing stare, you can tell he expects a response. You nod slightly, feeling breathless, and desperately wanting him to touch you. Instead, his fingers are sliding along the slickness on the outside of your skin, instead of slipping between the folds. 

"say it."

"It was you," you whisper, rocking your hips toward his hand. His other palm presses down on the side of your hip, keeping you still against the wall. 

He leans in, his teeth brushing your lips. "again."

You will your voice to be louder. "Papyrus."

"that's what i thought, darlin'." 

He removes his hand from your pants, and you're unable to stop the needy whine from building in the back of your throat, which causes him to chuckle. 

"if we had more time, i'd see how long it takes before ya start beggin'."

His smirk drops around the edges, however, as if he began to realize he made an unintentional dog reference. He undoes his belt and zipper, freeing his long, glowing shaft. Then, he grips the back of the waistband of your leggings. 

"let's just get to the point."

In a smooth jerk, he has them pulled down enough that he can spear right into you, filling you up with a single thrust. You're so wet that he doesn't encounter any resistance, and a rather loud moan escapes you. He caught you off-guard with that one; you weren't prepared, so you find yourself gripping his ribs as he sets a rhythm. Your back slides against the jacket buffering you from the sedimentary wall, and the fluff of the hood tickles your cheek. 

Papyrus kisses you again, hard. His tongue mimics the motions of your bodies, sliding along your tongue with the same back and forth pace of his thrusts. One of your hands moves up to grip the back of his neck, and the chain still affixed to his collar swings down from his shoulder. With each jostling motion, you can feel the cold metal tap against your stomach, but you're too focused to bother batting it away. 

It's easy to lose yourself, to become addicted to this feeling--where you're wanted, desired even. It's technically only been two days since your tryst with the insatiable brothers, but here you are, tightening your grip on Papyrus's pelvis to pull him in deeper with each forward thrust. His grunts, gasps, and groans meld with your own pleasurable sounds. With this, your thoughts are driven away. You don't have to think; you get to just feel and enjoy the ride. 

In this case, Papyrus is doing the same with you. 

His hands roam your body, feeling your skin, bruising your hips, squeezing your ass, cupping your breasts. Breaking the kiss, his teeth return to your neck and shoulder, nipping and licking, muffling his groans against your flesh and making you moan at the pleasant vibrations. He's got just the right angle, his pelvis scraping against your sensitive nerves whenever he hilts himself within you, and as he rolls a nipple between his thumb and index finger, pinching lightly, you feel yourself getting closer and closer.

Lolling your head to the side, you provide him better access to your neck and bury your face into the fluff of his jacket. The scent of smoke and pine is a nostalgic turn-on, and within a few more thrusts, you feel yourself come undone around his cock. Moaning rather loudly, you arch your back a little and grip onto his spine. He only thrusts harder during your climax, your reaction sending him over the edge. Shuddering and groaning, his excess magic empties into you, and at the same time, he bites down on your shoulder, hard. You feel the skin break, but the tingling of his magical tongue lapping across the wound instantly numbs it. 

Papyrus slumps against you, exhausted, his face nestled in your shoulder. You're both panting, his ribs expanding beneath your palms despite the fact that he doesn't have lungs. 

His magic dispels, leaving you empty, and when you both finally catch your breath, he pulls back to look at you. There's a large bite mark on your shoulder, with several smaller love bites peppered along your neck, shoulder, and clavicle. There's something so familiar about it--as if you should have more marks than just those--but he tries to shake off the feeling. Slowly, he moves your legs from his hips so you can stand, though your knees are weak from the orgasm, and he has to support you. 

The silence feels awkward. You're not sure what to say. 

Thank you? 

You pull your leggings back up, even though his magic is coating your inner thighs. Papyrus zips his backs and buckles his belt, before pulling his jacket further around your shoulders. "put your arms in the sleeves," he instructs, breaking the silence. You comply, and then he zips it up. The jacket is so big on you that it's practically a dress; it hangs halfway down your thighs. As you push the sleeves up to free your hands, Papyrus flips the hood over your head. 

"ok, let's go to the basement."

A mixture between fear and hope grips you. "The basement?"

He nods, sighing. "you said ya wanna get back to your timeline, right? welp, i'm not makin' any promises, but i've been workin' on the whole **reset** thing, anyway, so..." Trailing off, he shrugs. "can't hurt to try."

You try to taper down the hope that blooms in your chest. This is the first time in any of the timelines that you've actually made any leeway on fixing it. The only other person that you actually had time to discuss the **RESET** s with in length was the red-eyed Sans, but... the two of you never attempted to fix it. 

He had been adamant about being able to protect you, to make sure you never left his timeline. 

You knew from experience that hope was dangerous, so you tried to keep it in check.

You slip your hand into Papyrus's. "Let's go, then."

With a lazy grin, he winks. 

"i know a shortcut."

###### 

His basement reminds you of the one you had seen years ago as a child. 

The fluorescent lighting gives the interior a sterile look that always made you feel uncomfortable. There are blueprints spread across a desk, notes scrawled across a whiteboard affixed to the wall. To the side is a familiar machine, but it's uncovered and appears to be in better shape than the one you had seen in Sans's basement. 

Surprisingly, when you glance at the blueprints, you don't find any strange Wing Ding symbols. Instead, there are riddles written in the margins. You lean over and read one of them. "Until I am measured, I am not known. Yet how you miss me, when I have flown." You glance up at Papyrus. "Why riddles?"

He shrugs, but there's something bitter in his expression. "don't ask me. the old man had a penchant for bein' cryptic. probably thought he was smarter than everyone else." He twisted dials and pressed buttons on the machine. "answer's time, by the way."

"Time?" you parrot. "Does that mean...?"

He nods. "yep. this was supposed to be a time machine. ended up scatterin' the geezer across time and space, though." Sighing, he moves toward you and opens a drawer. You were expecting him to pull out a photo album or something, like the one you discovered hidden away in Sans's drawer, but instead he pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. After lighting one up, he seems to marginally relax, and he blows the smoke toward the ceiling. 

"The geezer being Gaster, right?" you inquire for clarification.

He gives you a strange look. "The weirdo that ferries the boat? Why would you think it's him?"

Now you're confused. "Gaster wasn't your mentor?"

"heh, i dunno what kind of backwards timeline you're from, but the old royal scientist was that hooded freak. and his methods were... questionable," he mutters vaguely. "not that it matters. i've been workin' on trying to restore the machine, to gain power over the timelines myself so i can stop this mess." He turns to you, taking a long drag from his cigarette. "but you've already got power over the timelines, so it might be able to actually work."

You glance at the whiteboard, to the equations he has written there in his cramped handwriting. It's way beyond any of your mathematical expertise, but it seems like he's really been trying to fix it. 

Sans never succeeded. He once admitted to you that it could never be fixed.

_*i quit trying to go back._

You didn't understand what that meant at the time; he was always vague with his responses, if it chose to answer rather than deflect with a pun. Now, you realize that with the machine, he might could have gone back and saved his mentor--or at least stopped it from happening. 

But there was something you always wondered.

"My ability... Is it possible because of this machine? The failed experiment?"

Papyrus blew out another cloud of smoke. This wasn't a conversation he really wanted to have, but it wasn't as if there was anyone left to discuss these kind of things with, either. "yeah, you could say that." He flicks his cigarette butt into an ashtray on the desk and lights up another one. Chain smoking sounds like a good idea after everything that's happened today. "dunno how you ended up coming into other timelines, though. and you don't have any control over that?"

You shake your head, still staring at the whiteboard. "No... Whenever I die or **RESET** manually, I end up in another timeline. There's a button that I can see... an option. There used to be two, but one disappeared, and the other... well, it looks like it's glitching? If that makes sense."

Papyrus makes a thoughtful sound in the back of his throat, and you turn to find him still staring at you. It feels like he's trying to gauge how much of your admission is the truth or not, but he finally seems to be satisfied and turns away. "if it's glitchin', then that's likely why ya ended up timeline hopping. i dunno how to fix that."

Your heart sinks into your stomach. 

"what else happens? anythin' else ya can think of? what happened to the other button?"

"It was a **LOAD** option. If I was determined enough, I could... **SAVE** a moment in time to come back to, if that makes sense."

"a do-over," he supplies, and that bitter, biting tone is back.

Still, you nod. "Yeah. That option was glitching, too, at the start. But it... broke. It's not there anymore."

"sounds like your **reset** option could break, too, if ya keep usin' it." He takes another drag of the cigarette and adjusts something on the machine. "wonder what would happen then."

"I'd... probably die for real. Or get stuck in the limbo between timelines." It's been a constant worry ever since all of this began, and you haven't always played it safe--or smart.

"limbo?" He glances back to you, and you edge closer to the machine, trying to figure out what he's adjusting. There are too many knobs and buttons for you to know what they do. "sounds like the void to me."

"I really don't know," you admit. "I just... don't want to end up stuck there."

"don't blame ya," he mutters, before he pulls a cord from the side of the machine. What he's holding in his hand looks like the clamps on jumper cables that attach to a car battery. "lemme see your hands."

They look painful, so you shove your hands in the pockets of the jacket and step back, shaking your head. "What are those?"

He sighs, stepping forward and shifting both of the cables to one hand so he can snag your arm with the other. "jus' gonna connect you to the machine, ok? look, they don't hurt." He releases you once you stop edging away, so he can clamp one to his ulna and hold out his arm. "see?"

You scoff. "Easy for you to say. You don't have skin and nerve endings!"

"if i recall correctly, you like a little bit of pain, darlin'." The look in his orange eyelights is dark, a slight smirk crossing his sharp teeth. He grabs your arm again, but this time, you don't put up a fight when he tugs your hand from the pocket and unfurls your fingers. Papyrus attaches the clamp to your palm, and while the grooved metal bites into your skin, it doesn't puncture it. It's just uncomfortable. He repeats the process with the other hand, and you scrunch up your face as you hold your arms out in front of you.

Can you trust him? What if this is some ploy to try to get power over the timeline, like he had mentioned? What if you ended up dead, and _he_ ended up hopping through the timelines? 

Hopefully, the threat of being lost in the Void for eternity is enough of a deterrent. You just want your **RESET** button fixed. 

"ok, keep in mind i don't know how well this'll work, darlin'. but maybe if ya **reset** while you're attached, it'll fix the button and send ya home."

There's that hope again. You try to douse it with a healthy dose of reality. "What do you get out of this?"

He shrugs. "i can't **reset**. but if you do, it's gonna effect this timeline, too. i'm hopin' you **reset** back far enough that i can stop them at the source."

"So you're just rolling the dice on this one, huh?"

His lazy grin stretches. "pretty much. worth a shot. i've got my notes somewhere safe, somewhere the **reset** can't reach. so... if this works, i'm guaranteed a little extra time." 

***besides, as much as i'd like ya to stay... my soul's screaming at me to get ya away from here.**

Papyrus flips a switch, and the machine whirls to life. Your hands begin to tingle from where the clamps are, like there's a small amount of electricity sparking against your palms. The tingle ripples up your arms, and you have to fight back the urge to shuck the cables from your skin. 

Unfortunately, the machine is rather loud. You hear footsteps from above, suddenly stomping across the ceiling. Papyrus glances up and curses.

"shit, m'lord knows where we are. guess it was too much to hope he'd be combin' the forest for us instead of in the house." You hear the front door slam, and your heart begins hammering in your chest. "darlin', not to rush ya or anythin', but... now'd be a good time to **reset**."

He's tense, looking between you and the door, and you hurriedly try to pull upon the option. The button begins to flicker into focus, glitching in its usual fashion. It's missing chunks, and the _R_ keeps inverting. However, as you hear the machine whirl louder, you feel a stronger tingle in your palms. The clamps begin to feel hot, like they're burning your skin, but even as you wince, you can see the hollow, static portions of the **RESET** button beginning to appear as if a translucent, complete button was superimposed over it. 

Sans is banging on the door.

"I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE, MONGREL! I'LL KILL BOTH OF YOU FOR _DARING_ TO DEFY YOUR MASTER!"

"woah, he's pissed." Papyrus's eyesocket begins to glow a faint orange, and he continues staring at the door as he tells you, "any time now, darlin'."

You bide your time, focusing. With every solid _thump_ to the door, you lose your concentration and the glitched button reappears, but if you can just _focus_ , maybe you can fix it. 

You just have to be DETERMINED. You have to be _patient_. 

The solid portions begin to come into view again. 

The banging becomes louder, the door cracking. 

"darlin'--"

You raise your hand. It almost looks complete. Just a little more...

The door flies off its hinges, and Sans bursts in. "YOU LITTLE SLUT!"

Your concentration breaks, you flinch, and--

Your fingers brush the button, causing it to light up, right as a sharpened bone shoots right through you.

###### 

You're falling.

It isn't like the first time you fell, when you were a just a child staring into the abyss and wishing to be spirited away to somewhere more magical than your bleak world. 

Your hands are still outstretched, groping through thin air, your legs stretched out in front of you. There's no halo of light above your head to denote your fall from the Surface, and you're falling entirely too far.

You screwed up.

A moment passes, and then dim light illuminates your surroundings as you fall. Instead of the endless Void you were anticipating, you see the cavern walls of the Underground surrounding you. Wildly, you look around for any other form of landmark, for some way to tell which part of the Underground you were in. 

A castle comes into view, overgrown with weeds and vines. Papyrus is standing on a balcony, wearing an impressive cape, a frown, and... a crown.

You expect to hit the dead, wilted flowers carpeting the ground, but when you brace for impact, it never comes.

You just keep falling.

You're still Underground, but you're falling faster. Sans is standing off to the side wearing fuzzy bunny slippers, and next to him, another skeleton is clad in a Hawaiian print shirt. The taller skeleton turns to wave at you, and you tense up, prepared to call out to him, but then you plummet head-first into water.

Mer-monsters swim around you, and you're surprised to spot Undyne looking gorgeous with a long, red fin behind her. A giant ship passes by beneath the water with two skeleton pirates at the helm. 

You fall out of the water and plummet into the sky, gasping for air. 

A skeleton with black wings soars past you. 

You continue falling, twisting in mid-air, trying to draw in enough breath to scream, to draw someone's attention and get help. 

You descend past a version of Sans with massive horns spiraling from the sides of his head that snarls in your direction.

You flail your limbs as you pass by literal skeletal dragons, like massive Gaster Blasters come to life.

And you plummet past a skeleton in dark robes, wearing a shit-eating grin and holding a scythe. He points to his eye, then you, then drags his thumb across his throat and chuckles.

You keep falling, further and further, your surroundings becoming dark, darker, yet darker.

And then... 

You're suddenly no longer falling.

You're _floating._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're starting to wind down. I know a lot of you want to see Beasttale in this, but... I may just make that into a non-canon one-shot because I'd love to fulfill those kinky fantasies, but I don't see a way to work it in. xP  
> BPT is winding down! We're going to see two AU's next chapter, followed by G!Sans, and then there should be two more chapters after that. So, about four more chapters 'til we find out if she can fix this horrible mess. 
> 
> To keep up with update schedules and other fun things, [here's my tumblr.](https://tyranttortoise.tumblr.com/)


	14. *You're Star Dust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *knock knock  
> who's there?  
> not my laughter  
> i am drowning  
> falling faster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooo boy, this chapter was difficult to write. I have a lot of anxiety over it because--honestly, it's a big angst ball. Like holy shit, this is pretty much nothing but angst and guilt. But hey, there's also quite a bit of plot in this one!  
> Next chapter will be more of a "fun" chapter.  
> *Slight gore warning maybe? At least a violence warning.

Your breathing is coming out in short, panicked gasps. 

You're _floating_.

You're surrounded by glimmering stars, brighter than you've ever seen. They seem nearly as close as the time that you and Sans had set up a telescope on a grassy knoll and he had taught you to pick out the constellations.

You couldn't pick them out now even if you wanted to.

You can't breathe.

Your vision is starting to fade. You pass through something that feels almost like tearing through cellophane, and then--

You fall.

Your back hits snow, and what's left of your air rushes from your lungs. Your teeth are chattering, but you don't even feel cold. You can't even process what you just went through except that something went terribly wrong. You went through so many different timelines--you saw so many different versions of the monsters you hold so dear--that getting home seems so impossible now. How many timelines could there possibly be? An infinite number, spawned from every choice anyone ever made? 

You're never getting home. 

_I saw red-eyed Sans again, though. I found his timeline again._

It was a fluke. There are too many versions of Sans out there. You'll never see that red-eyed version or your original one again. 

Are you going to be trapped, perpetually dying and waking up in a new timeline with familiar faces that don't recognize yours? Or is your button going to break, and you're going to end up in limbo--the Void, whatever it is?

Or will you just finally die, after so many mulligans?

You lie there in the snow, staring up at the stars. The sky is a strange color of royal blues and dark purples, melded together. The beautiful sight begins to blur, and when you blink, hot tears streak down your cheeks. You can't even bring yourself to get up and figure out what kind of timeline you're in now. You can't will yourself to move.

"SANS! SANS!! GET OVER HERE, QUICK!"

You'd recognize that voice anywhere. You screw your eyes shut tight.

"what is it, bro?"

Your fingers dig into the snow.

"I THINK IT'S A HUMAN!! IS IT BREATHING?"

You're holding your breath.

"give 'em some _space_ , pap." You hear crunching in the snow as one of them--presumably Sans--approaches and crouches down. 

"THEY'RE NOT WEARING A SPACE SUIT!" Papyrus sounds quite concerned... and wait, did he just say _space suit_?! "AND I DON'T SEE THEIR SHIP! HOW DID THEY GET HERE?"

"dunno." Sans reaches out and touches your chilled cheek. You involuntarily flinch, and you can hear him blow out a breath. "she's alive."

"GOOD! THAT MEANS I CAN CAPTURE THE HUMAN!" There's a pause where Sans touches your cheek again, and this time, you don't move. "WELL, ONCE SHE RECOVERS, OF COURSE! IT WOULDN'T BE FAIR IF I DIDN'T PUT HER THROUGH MY PUZZLES FIRST, AND I AM A SKELETON OF STANDARDS! SHALL WE TAKE HER TO OUR HOUSE TO REST?"

"that sounds like the best plan for now." You can _feel_ Sans's gaze on you. You should open your eyes and ask them questions, but you want to rest. You just want to keep your eyes closed for a while and not have to deal with any of this timeline-hopping crap anymore. 

One of them puts his arms beneath your knees and shoulders and hoists you from the snow. From how far you feel yourself lifted from the ground, you know it has to be Papyrus that lifts you up. You keep your eyes closed as he nestles your head against his chest. It's solid against your cheek, like plastic, so you realize he must be wearing his battle body. He sounds just like your Papyrus, but you know he isn't, and there's a huge part of you that doesn't want to see the difference. You just want to pretend, if only for a little bit, so you relax and image it's your Papyrus gently carrying you home. 

There had been plenty of times when you fell asleep on the couch, but woke up warm and secure in his racecar bed, while he worked on puzzle mechanics on his computer. Papyrus rarely slept, but whenever you caught sight of him working in the middle of the night, you always felt so... safe.

You drag in a deep, shuddering breath. You're just so tired.

"SANS, DO YOU THINK THE HUMAN IS ALL RIGHT? IT FEELS LIKE... SOMETHING'S OFF."

"what d'ya mean, bro?"

"HER BREATHING IS WEIRD."

There's a moment of silence where you try to hold your breath, but it ends up coming out in several short, gasping breaths. 

"i think she's having a panic attack or something."

"PANIC ATTACK? HOW DO YOU DEFEND YOURSELF AGAINST PANIC?" It sounds like there's panic rising in his tone, you distantly think.

"it's difficult," Sans replies, his voice closer to your head now. "let's let her lie down for a while."

"GOOD IDEA! SOME REST WILL MAKE EVERYTHING BETTER!"

He starts to lower you down, and you end up clutching onto his scarf. You wanted to be held a little longer, to feel protected when everything just keep spiraling out of control. His scarf ends up coming undone from his neck, and the thick fabric pools on top of your chest. 

"...YOU CAN HOLD ONTO THAT, BUT I'LL NEED IT BACK WHEN YOU FINISH FIGHTING OFF THE PANIC, HUMAN!" he claims, and you're grateful--so grateful--that this version of Papyrus seems to be a nice guy. The bed is soft, and someone pulls heavy blankets over you to keep you warm. You hear the skelebros walk off to discuss you in another room, their murmured voices coming through the walls, but you just curl up around the scarf and try to block out everything. It doesn't smell like Papyrus, but rather ozone and snow, but you can pretend. 

You end up falling asleep.

###### 

When you wake up, you're not sure how much time has passed, but you feel disoriented when you open your eyes. The ceiling is painted like a galaxy, with swirls of purple and blue and dotted white stars. It looks almost like the scene you saw when you hit the snow and stared at the sky overhead--beautiful and otherworldly. It definitely can't be the Surface, and yet... you're not Underground. 

You drag the scarf from beneath the covers and see that it's a dark, royal blue, trimmed in gold and detailed with countless golden stars. You can even pick out constellations in the patterns--it's incredibly detailed. 

"like it? my bro made it himself."

You bolt upright in the bed so quickly that your head spins. When you glance to the side, you find Sans seated in a plush chair, his slippered feet propped up on the armrest, while his back is against the other one. His clothing is in hues of blue and gold, trimmed in plush white fluff. Even his jacket's drawstrings have puffy white balls dangling from the end. It makes him look softer somehow, but his expression looks just like the Sans from your timeline.

You can't speak. He's not your Sans, obviously, but he's also not a Sans that wants to immediately kill you or eat you. It's been a long time since you've seen one so close to the one that you knew. Probably not since you met that dancing Sans, in fact. 

"took him days to get the details right. he painted the mural on his ceiling, too." Sans lazily gestures up and chuckles. "he's so cool."

"Wh.." Your voice cracks, and you clear your throat. "Where am I?"

"my bro's room. snowdin." His eyelights are watching your face carefully. "on the monster moon beyond ebott asteroid belt, of course."

Asteroid belt? Monster Moon?

You stare at the scarf clenched in your hands. 

There's no way. 

No. Way. 

"I... don't understand," you mumble, even though _you do_. You just don't want to. 

Did you really end up going to a timeline that's set in space?

"don't understand what? don't you remember anything of how you came here? paps has been looking for your ship. most humans that end up here end up getting their ships damaged by the asteroid belt and crash-land." 

You feel like he's already on to you. Silently, you continue staring at the scarf, while Sans moves to stand from the chair and slowly cross the room. 

"but paps isn't convinced there is a ship. he claims he saw you fall from the sky without a spacesuit. yet, here you are, still alive." You can feel him watching you, and you draw your knees up to your chest in response. He's quiet, but you can still see him standing in your peripheral, so you finally turn to face him. "you didn't seem surprised to be in snowdin... and the presence of an alien monster doesn't seem to shock you, either. most humans would be trying to attack me--or at least run away--but... you don't even have a weapon."

There are no inquiries in that--just observations. Observations that are too astute, too true. You can't even try to spin a tale about crashing a ship. You don't feel like it. 

"You're right," you manage, smoothing the scarf across your lap and beginning to neatly fold it up. It gives you something to do with your hands, when you so desperately want to cling to the front of his jacket and beg him for help. "I've seen monsters before. Never space monsters, but..." You trail off, shaking your head. "I just want to go home, Sans."

"i didn't tell you my name, pal."

"I know you didn't."

You finish folding the scarf and set it on the side of the bed. Then, you meet Sans's gaze, and you... feel like he sees something in your eyes. Just like with the other Sans-personalities you've met, it seems like a spark of recognition, as if he knows you from somewhere but cannot place where. 

Finally, he shrugs and shoves his hands in his pockets, his smile relaxing. He winks an eyesocket shut. "how's about a drink? you look like you could use one."

"Sure, thanks." 

You take him up on that offer and get out of bed. Sans pauses, looking over your sweater-dress and tights. "you really stick out, kid," he murmurs, before he shrugs off his jacket and hands it to you. "slip that on for now."

His jacket is warm and fluffy, the plush lining of the hood tickling your face. It reminds you of the other fur-lined jackets you've worn, only this one seems more like a cloud. You pull it tight around your form. "Thanks."

Sans is looking at you strangely, but he just nods and then leads you out of the room. The interior of the house looks mostly the same as it always has, only the walls are a dark blue, and there definitely seems to be a star aesthetic. Even the usual picture of a bone is now a bone floating through space and passing by shooting stars. 

You head straight for the front door and turn right when you're outside. Snow and ice coats the ground, but all of the houses (which seem to be more futuristic, made of metal and nearly all dome-shaped like giant pods) have twinkling star lights strung from them and between them, lighting the way. It's serene and beautiful

You wish you could stay here, but if the other timelines have taught you anything, it's that you can't make a life in them. 

Or maybe you're still being cynical.

"you seem to know your way around," Sans observes, and you just shrug. 

"Maybe," you distractedly reply. "Snowdin's really beautiful. I always wondered what it would look like at night, with actual stars."

"well, it's always night here," Sans remarks, heading toward a nearby dome lit with the neon script of Grillby's sign. You follow him inside and stop short. The interior isn't what you were expecting. It's warm, as always, but the floor is a deep purple, the booths have golden seats, and the tables are depicted with swirling galaxys. Glowing indigo crystals light the interior, and the monsters inside--the usual patrons you're used to seeing--are each wearing the same color scheme of blue and gold as Sans. 

"Sansy!! Good to see you!"

"'sup?" Sans chuckles, everyone greeting him by name as he meanders further inside the bar. You shake yourself out of your awe-struck state and hurry to follow after him. Your presence draws quite a few stares, but thankfully, it doesn't seem like the monsters of this moon are that familiar with human appearances.

"Who's your friend?" Big Mouth (who is quite aptly named) asks. 

"pal from the capital," Sans lies without missing a beat. This seems to appease most of the monsters (though Punk Hamster scoffs and turns away, muttering about city slickers and overcrowding). It's all so familiar that you could nearly guess what they're going to say or how they'd react, yet... it's so foreign at the same time. 

The bar top is printed with the same galaxy swirls as the table, and the stools are golden stars. You take a seat next to Sans, and when Grillby turns around, you feel your breath hitch in your throat. His flames are a bright purple, swirled with navy, and lined with countless glowing dots of stars. The flames are constantly moving and swirling, like some sort of contained supernova. 

"heya grillbz. i'll take a solar flare, and my buddy here will have...?" He glances over to you, but you don't have the slightest idea. All of the bottles of liquor behind Grillby are glowing, and you just know that you want to drink one of them. 

You shrug helplessly. "Something that glows?"

Sans chuckles. "well that's pretty much everything. how about a nebula nectar? just put 'em on my tab, grillbz." The skeleton winks, and Grillby nods and turns to mix the drinks, while you try not to stare at just how beautiful his flames are. 

"Thanks."

Sans hums, and within moments, two drinks are set on the bar. Yours looks like a mini-galaxy in a glass, swirling and faintly glowing, while Sans's drink is dark reds and oranges, also faintly glowing.

You can't help but venture a guess, "Does that have ketchup or tomato juice in it?"

"yep. good guess, kid," Sans replies in a tone that suggests he knows he wasn't a guess. You take a sip of your drink, and it's _heavenly._ And strong. The back of your throat feels hot, but it goes down smooth, leaving a pleasant aftertaste that's similar to green apples, surprisingly enough. 

"This is really good!" Your expression lights up, and Grillby seems to glow a bit brighter at the compliment. You take another sip while he moves to take an order from another customer, and Sans stares straight ahead, swirling his drink around in his hand.

Sans lets you enjoy your drink in silence for a moment before he decides to press you. Or maybe he was just waiting for the alcohol to kick in a little because you're already starting to feel it. 

"so, kid..." 

You don't want to talk about that just yet, so you cut him off.

"Do you think I'll vomit glitter later?"

Sans is completely caught off-guard, his eyesockets widening as he turns to stare at you. You're looking into your drink with a small smile. "It's glowing and kinda sparkling. If I drink too many and get sick, do you think my vomit will sparkle?"

"probably not? but pfft--!" Sans starts laughing, shaking his head. He leans an arm against the bar and swivels his body on the stool to face you better. "that's such a weird thing to worry about."

"You never know! It wouldn't be the first time," you remark, taking another long sip. Wow, this stuff tastes great. You're going to need another glass. 

"what?" Sans chuckles. "you make a habit out of throwing up glitter?" You shrug, and he continues, "you know there is a drink called haley's _vomit_. maybe that's what i should've gotten you."

"A play on Haley's Comet? What--did you make up the name for that one?"

"i may have pitched the name, and it kinda stuck." His grin looks pleased.

It's been such a long time since you've seen him smile that genuinely. 

"issat so?"

... Shit, you said that out-loud. 

You curse, finishing off your drink. Maybe you shouldn't have practically chugged it on an empty stomach. You know better, after what happened in the Swap timeline. 

"Yeah," you mutter, looking down at the bar top.

"i had a feeling we'd met before. my feelings are usually right." He doesn't seem as bothered by it as you thought he'd be. You angle your body toward his and stare. "so you're from another reality, right?"

Your heart sinks in your chest, and you feel like you can't breathe again. "You... you know about other realities?" you inquire, keeping your voice low. 

"sure. not sure what yours is like, but technology's pretty advanced here. i've looked in on a few, trying to find a solution to break the force-field that keeps us tethered to the asteroid belt, but... haven't really found anything helpful." He shrugs, taking a sip of his drink, but watching you over the rim. 

"Wait, you can look at them?" Forget being quiet now; you're on your feet and grasping the sleeve of his sweater. "Can you show me? How does it work? Can you go _into_ them?"

Sans's eyelights start darting around. He places a hand on your arm, trying to urge you back into your seat. "kiddo, calm down for a sec--"

"Please. Please, Sans, can you help me go home?"

Your eyes are hot, and you can tell that the rest of the tavern is staring at you. So much for keeping a low profile. Sans pries your hands off his sweater, but keeps hold of your fingers. 

Big Mouth laughs, loud and heartily. "Looks like your cousin isn't enjoying Snowdin, Sans!"

"Too cold for a city gal?"

"Might need to thaw her out!"

"heh, you're right. _icy_ that i need to get her somewhere warm," Sans comments with a wink to the others, while pulling you to your feet. You're not even paying attention to the others; you're solely focused on him while he leads you out of the bar in a hurry. He's seen other realities; he might have seen _your_ reality! He may be able to get you home! Sure, he hasn't told you that yet, but you're starting to feel HoPe again!

The frigid air hits you in the face as soon as you both step outside, and Sans leads you around to the back of the building by the hand. As soon as he stops, you latch onto him again. Now that you've been walking, you realize just how strong that drink was. 

"I have to make things right, Sans, I just have to," you blurt, and he turns to face you. You latch onto his waist, hugging him tight with your face against his shoulder. You don't deserve to hold onto Sans like this, your drunken mind whispers. If he knew what you did--

"what did you do, kid?"

You start from your guilty thoughts. 

"I ruined everything, and I have to fix it." You pull back enough to look at him, tears marring your cheeks--which are already bright red, thanks to the cold. "I can't stay here. I just make things worse and mess up no matter where I go. You... you didn't see my timeline, did you?"

Sans sighs and grips your arms. In the next moment, everything disorients, and you're in another location altogether. You stomach rolls and you lurch forward, promptly throwing up on the front of Sans's navy sweater. As you stare at it in complete mortification, Sans's smile turns tight. 

"well, you were right, kiddo. it _does_ sparkle."

###### 

Mortified doesn't really begin to cover what you're feeling, but now that you're drinking water, you feel a little better. Sans has discarded his sweater, leaving him in a white tanktop that hangs off him and shows his ribs. 

"you sure you're ok?"

"Yeah... sorry," you squeak, certain your blush is permanent at this point. Luckily, Sans doesn't seem to hold it against you. 

"it's my bad. i should've ordered you something weaker." He shrugs, moving to tweak some machinery. "i wanted you drunk, honestly, to get info outta you. so i kinda brought it on myself."

Well, he wanted you drunk, and you wanted to _be_ drunk, so it worked out. "It's fine." Your head is still swimming a little, so you cradle it in your palm while you sip on your water. 

You're in the familiar basement beneath the skeleton brothers' house, only this one is filled with so much more equipment than your Sans's or the Papyrus's of the last timeline. Rather than a place to keep old machinery, it looks like an actual lab--with everything seemingly in working condition. All of the writing is in the Wing Dings symbols that Sans always seems to keep his notes in, so you can't make heads or tails of them. 

"so tell me about your timeline."

"Monsters are Underground... _were_ Underground," you amend. "In my timeline, they made it to the Surface." 

Sans pauses to look back at you. "they broke the force-field?"

"The barrier? Yeah, they broke it."

You now have his full attention. "how?"

"Human SOULs," you reply with a shrug.

"seven of them?"

"Yeah, I..." You think back to the final encounter with Asriel, to how he had pulled everyone's SOULs across the Underground into himself--including the six human SOULs Asgore had gathered. Yours was to be the seventh, but the barrier was still broken without yours. 

However, after the barrier was broken, you couldn't feel that nagging presence within your head anymore--the one that had slaughtered everyone when you **RESET**. Chara. You're convinced their SOUL had been used in place of yours to break it. 

Even if your head is swimming, you withhold this information from Sans. 

You realize he's still waiting on you to finish that thought. You rub your temple, trying to clear your mind. "Sorry. Yeah, it was the power of seven human SOULs that broke it."

"huh. didn't know that would actually work. what happened to your timeline?"

You drag your gaze away from his, unable to find the words to admit what happened. With him standing there, wearing that white shirt, basketball shorts, and fluffy slippers--it's too easy to see him as _your_ Sans.

The guilt is gnawing at your gut. You might be sick again.

"back underground, huh?" 

You just barely nod. "Do you want to keep me here and use my SOUL to break the barrier?"

"wouldn't work," he answers, turning back to the machinery and his notes. "your soul's red."

"How do you know that..?"

"if you're the reason your timeline's back underground, then it's gotta be red." Finally, he seems satisfied with his work and gestures to a scary-looking machine that appears to be skull. It's shaped vaguely like a Gaster Blaster, in fact. "time to _bear your soul_ , kiddo. come have a seat inside the machine."

He gestures toward the gaping maw of the machine, and you find yourself shaking your head. No thanks. 

Sans comes over and takes the glass from your hand. " _water_ you waiting for?"

You don't acknowledge the pun. "It looks like it's going to eat me."

"it just _looks_ scary. now stop _skull_ king. it won't hurt you."

You swallow hard and sit down in the machine, ducking your head past the gaping maw. You're feeling claustrophobic and entirely too queasy to deal with this right now. "How is the machine going to get me back to my timeline?"

"you can **reset** , right?" You give him a blank stare, gripping the sides of the machine. "red soul of determination is a giveaway, pal. this machine lets me see other realities. i haven't tried traveling to them yet. i like to gather all the data i can first."

"So how does helping me help you?"

"heh, mostly i just want you gone, kid. i've been dealing with **resets** plenty thanks to that flower, and i want **n o t h i n g** to do with them. so, yeah, i want you out of this timeline as quick as possible." There's nothing kind about his smile. "and if your powers give me some readings to go on, then that's just a bonus." 

He really does want you gone; he hates you based on your powers alone. Of course, the fact that you admitted to screwing up your timeline probably doesn't help, especially since he--quite accurately--feels like another version of himself is the one that got screwed. 

"Okay. What do I do?"

"sit back, and let's get to the point."

As soon as you sit back, you feel the familiar tug on your chest. Sans's eyesocket wisps blue, and in the next moment, your SOUL is called forth, ripped from within you. Everything around you becomes black and white, your senses dulled except for the glowing color of your SOUL. 

Both of you stare at it in silence.

The crimson heart is a much darker color than you remember it being (although, admittedly, it's been quite a while since you've been directly Confronted. Most of your deaths struck your body instead of your SOUL), the usually vibrant red glow diminished. There's a jagged crack down the middle, the halves melded together by overlapping shards of purple.

"your soul..."

Sans is caught completely off-guard, and you struggle not to have a panic attack or throw up again. You bury yourself further into Sans's jacket, unable to look away. 

Purple is for Perseverance. You remember the SOUL traits; they were something taught in the monster school curriculum. 

"I've died quite a few times... And my **RESET** option has been glitching. Do you think that's why...?"

Or was it because of what happened in the last timeline, when you decided to turn to science to **RESET**?

Maybe this is a bad idea.

... Too bad it's the only idea you have.

"your determination is weak, and your soul is damaged. it might be directly tied to your **reset** option. i'm not sure."

"Will this still work?"

Sans shrugs, his smile tight. "dunno. never even tried it, much less on a damaged soul. this doesn't really change anything. you've still got a determined soul."

"So I should still be able to **RESET**."

He nods, though adjusts a few of the knobs. "ok, maybe that'll help. let's see... try to envision your timeline, and i'll see if i can lock onto it. focus on **resetting** , too. when we find it, i can use the machine to try to send you back."

"Try," you repeat, your tone flat. 

He shrugs again. "don't wanna get your hopes up."

You feel deep within yourself and summon the Options. The **RESET** button is mostly static, with only the outline of the letters remaining, aside from the black, inverted R. 

_I just have to think of my timeline... c'mon, concentrate!_

You think of all the nights spent on the couch with Sans and Papyrus. 

You think of study sessions with MK in Grillby's, complete with burgs and fries.

You think of Undyne supplexing boulders outside of your school, and Alphys teaching science at a local university. 

You think of the time Mettaton called you on-stage for a performance and you ended up dancing with Burgerpants--much to the cat's delight. 

You think of drinking tea with Asgore and helping him tend the garden... and of him protecting you from the media and coaching you on how to handle your ambassador duties. 

And you think of Toriel, opening her home to you with freshly baked pies, encouragement, and tutoring.

"i think it's starting to lock on," Sans says, breaking into your thoughts. You can see your **RESET** button beginning to appear a little more stable.

Sans presses a button and the machine whirls to life. Sparks of electricity--of magic--come from the sides of the machine, striking your SOUL directly. It doesn't hurt; instead, it tingles. You can barely feel your body when you're being Confronted with your SOUL out, but even with the detached feeling, your arms tingle like they've fallen asleep, and the feeling continues to creep along your extremities. 

You think of the time you laid on a grassy hill between Papyrus and Sans and stared at the stars, listening as Sans picked out constellations for his brother, and Papyrus encouraged both of you to make wishes. 

_WHAT DO YOU WANT, SANS?_

_heh, i could go for a burg from grillby's._

_UGH, BESIDES THAT GREASY FOOD! THERE HAS TO BE SOMETHING!_

The numbness is spreading throughout your body. The magic makes your SOUL pulse.

_i just want to stay like this, pap._

"woah, kiddo. concentrate."

Sans's voice breaks into your thoughts, and you try to listen. You try to steer your thoughts away, but it's difficult.

You think of the time you first began receiving the letters from your biological parents, urging you to come back home since you were the ambassador. You knew they only wanted to profit from you somehow, to make it out like the monsters took you from them--even though they had nothing to do with you when you had reached the Surface alone the first time.

You think of when you went to Sans's house, hoping to cheer yourself up with some bad TV and even worse jokes. 

"hey, kid?"

You think of what you saw when you opened the door... and of your selfish action that lead your timeline to ruin.

"kid!"

You can see the dust. You can hear Papyrus. You can hear the whirl of a Gaster Blaster warming up before its maw opens.

"it's starting to lock onto other timelines. concentrate on just the details of yours."

You think of Sans begging you to open the door before you **RESET**. You can't get back on track. 

"think of something happy from your timeline."

You think of butterscotch-cinnamon pie. You think of begging Sans for help with your science project.

You think of the red-eyed Sans kissing you in an alleyway while Freedom Day fireworks explode in the background.

Could it get you back to his timeline...?

No, you need to focus on yours. Of fixing things--of getting your friends out of the Underground.

You concentrate hard on when you first met Sans and Papyrus. Maybe you can start over, get them back to the Surface, go back to before you ever **RESET** in the first place. You think of all of his puns, of all the puzzles in Snowdin, of the time you spent playing with the Guard Dogs.

"there you go. it's starting to lock on again."

You think of walking through Snowdin, of the comfortable bed in the warm Inn.

Your body's gone completely numb, and your SOUL is pulsing brighter. 

You think of Papyrus dabbing marinara sauce behind his non-existent ears in preparation for your date. 

The machine is whirling loud, even though it sounds muted now, your senses too dulled by the sensation sweeping through your body.

You think of what his dust smelled like, carried through the wind and melded with the snow.

Sans is saying something, but you can't hear him over the sound of the machine.

The light of your SOUL overtakes your vision, the glitched **RESET** button hovering over it. 

Suddenly, the light dies down, your SOUL returning to your chest. You gasp, feeling your senses come back to you all at once, and break out of your memories. You're not sitting in the machine any longer, but standing in a darkened, snowy forest. 

You'd recognize it anywhere; it's the forest connecting the Ruins and Snowdin.

You start forward, your legs wobbling. Are you really back in your timeline? Did it work? You're back Underground, and you're no longer wearing Space-Sans's fluffy jacket. You don't even feel the lingering effects of the alcohol, although your body's still shaking.

_Please._

A figure steps from behind a tree and starts walking toward you with calm, unhurried steps.

"Sans?" you whisper, feeling your eyes burn. 

"heh, you kept me waiting this time." 

The figure has the same voice as Sans, and his words throw every bit of doubt out the window. It's your Sans! It has to be your Sans!

You start running forward, your vision blurry with unshed tears. "Sans!"

He chuckles and holds out his arms. His hood is drawn up, and beneath the shadows... you notice that his eyelights are red.

The moment you notice is the moment his magic grips you and throws you into a nearby tree. The air rushes out of your lungs, and you struggle to breathe; his blue magic is holding you firmly against the bark, compressing your chest and stealing your breath. Sans steps forward, hands in his pockets, and when he finally gets close enough that you can see his expression, your heart sinks. 

This isn't a Sans that you know.

His smile is wide and manic, and both eyelights are wide and tinged crimson. One of them has a blue pupil, likely since his magic is currently active. His grin widens as he watches you struggle, and he manifests a purple bone with a jagged tip to grasp in his palm. 

"i almost thought you'd given up, chara. but i knew you wouldn't. you can't." He steps closer, dragging the tip of his weapon through the snow. "after all, the definition of madness is doing the same thing over and over and expectin' a different result."

He looks deranged as he suddenly lifts his weapon above his head. "so are you ready for another **m a d t i m e ?** "

He brings the bone down and impales it straight into your shoulder. You have no breath to scream, so the sound comes out in a desperate wheeze, and your back arches off the tree as you scrape your boots against the bark. The pain's sharp and your blood gushes down your arm, dripping from your fingertips. 

"Ss--sss--saaa--" You can't quite manage his name.

Sans stops for a moment, his expression faltering as he watches you. He turns his head as if he's looking at someone beside him. "what do you mean, that's not chara? no, you're wrong, paps. it has to be."

_Paps?_

There's no one there. 

Sans lets up on the magic suddenly, and your body lurches forward, causing your weight to sag against the bone impaling you to the tree. You're able to drag in enough of a breath to properly scream this time, and you stand on your tip-toes to avoid jostling the weapon. 

"Sans, please, I-I'm not... I'm not Chara," you plead in a rush, digging your fingernails into the tree in an effort to avoid moving. 

"hmmm... i believe you."

That's unexpected. You stare, relief washing over you. However, Sans's smile isn't kind as he steps closer, gripping the shaft of the bone... and abruptly twisting it in your shoulder. You scream again, this time reaching up to grip the bone and attempt to stop him. 

"but even if you're not chara, you're still a **d i r t y b r o t h e r k i l l e r .** "

You think of Papyrus believing in you until the very end, but quickly push the thought aside. He doesn't know; you didn't kill his Papyrus! _You_ didn't kill any of them! It wasn't really you!

"I-I-I didn't!" you wheeze. "It wasn't _me_!"

"who was it then?" Sans pauses, holding up a finger when you suck in a breath to speak. His head is inclined to the side, as if he's listening to someone again. Phantom Papyrus, perhaps? "chara? i thought you said it wasn't chara. hmmm, _this_ isn't chara."

Sans leans in even closer, staring you directly in the eyes, and you can smell the dust clinging to him like a layer of grim that never quite washes off. 

"you say that someone else did the killing, yet this human has LOVE."

Your blood runs cold. He's clearly insane! "What?"

"you're not the only one with LOVE, kid. i've taken all of the LOVE here, to stop the monsters from being murdered over and over. by you, by chara--either way, i have the means to stop you now."

You need to **RESET** ; you have to get out of here. This Sans is consumed by LOVE and liable to rip you apart!

You concentrate hard, feeling the Options waver. The button has nearly been destroyed, but you're DETERMINED to make it work, to get out of here. 

"i know that look."

Sans manifests another bone. You focus on **RESET** ing.

"you need to atone for your sins, kid."

And with that, he plunges the bone into your thigh, and the pain is enough to make your vision fade. You can't focus enough to bring up the Options; your world is just misery. You scream, trying to bend over on impulse, which only rips the wound in your shoulder open wider. 

"paps says that you're the type that runs away... that you don't accept responsibility..."

_He's lying, he's crazy, Papyrus isn't really there..._

Sans snaps his fingers and the bones impaled in your body instantly vanish. You crumple into the snow, unable to do more than curl up, gripping your shoulder in an effort to staunch the bleeding. The skeleton crouches down, holding a new bone casually behind his neck, letting the shaft rest across his shoulders. He reaches out and grips your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. 

"you think you can do whatever you want. that you're above consequences."

Hot tears slip down your cheeks, wetting his phalanges. He pulls his hand back and stares at the moisture as if it's a hallucination. With a disgusted grimace, he wipes his palm on his shorts and pulls out his weapon, stroking your cheek with the jagged end. 

Blood wells up in a shallow cut that stings.

"if you do something unpleasant, you get a do-over. no one will be the wiser, right?"

The tip of the bone slides down your throat. 

" _wrong_. some of us remember. i always remember. you may not be chara, but you're the same as them. i can see it in you."

You're shaking, trying to press into the snow to get away from his weapon. "I'm...n-not."

Sans's smile becomes tight, and he abruptly digs his bone into the wound in your thigh. You scream again, though this time bite your lip to muffle the sound. You don't want to give him this kind of satisfaction.

"liar," he calmly accuses once your cries quiet. "paps knows what you did, and he doesn't even want to tell me. so i know it must be pretty awful."

You can't help but choke on a sob. He has to be making up the Papyrus part, but just envisioning Papyrus knowing what you've done makes you want to curl up and take whatever punishment he wants to deal. Maybe he's figured that out. Or maybe you're both just insane.

Your body goes slack in the snow, and you let go of your shoulder. 

"giving up?"

You nod, staring up at the tops of the trees. Sans looms over you with that manic smile, sliding the tip of his sharp bone along the front of your dress. 

"aw, c'mon. it's more fun if you struggle. maybe i'll just cut up your skin, then. it's been a while since chara's come through, so now that you're here..." He trails off, baring down on his weapon to cut a jagged "S" through your dress. "i want to make it last." His weapon moves to your wrist. "maybe you can _give me a hand_ with that."

* _"for fuck's sake, **move**!"_

A voice suddenly breaks into your thoughts. Sans doesn't seem to notice it, although he does pause to seemingly converse with Phantom Paps about what body part of yours to chop off first. 

You're suddenly incredibly alert, your heart pounding even harder in your chest. Your fingers twitch, and apparently, that's enough to regain Sans's attention because he stabs his bone through your palm, pinning it to the ground. It was on the injured shoulder, so you already couldn't feel much of that arm, but it's still enough to make you scream and start to curl in on yourself.

* _"goddammit, i'm gonna kill him! i swear to asgore! sweetheart, you gotta **reset** and ya gotta do it now!"_

"I can't," you whisper, fresh tears slipping past your cheeks. You've apparently gone mad now, too. Just as Sans is hearing Papyrus, you're hearing the red-eyed Sans.

* _"what? ya think you've gotta atone or some bullshit? you're stronger than this!"_

Sans twists the bone in your palm, before pulling it out. "shame. i don't like hands with holes in 'em. now i'm gonna have to take your other hand instead." He starts to slowly stand up and walk around to your other side, biding his time, watching you writhe in agony.

"I'm not," you whisper, the words barely audible.

* _"you are! look, doll, he's not gonna jus' kill ya and let you **reset**. he's packin' monster food. he'll torture ya near death and then heal ya and repeat the cycle!"_

"He's right, though. I deserve it."

Sans furrows his brow, crouching down to loom over you. His head looks upside-down from your position. "who're you talking to?"

You smile a little bit, tears still slipping from the corners of your eyes each time you blink. "Papyrus." It's a lie, but it seems fitting. You can't be talking to Red anymore than he can actually be talking to Papyrus. 

Sans actually appears shaken by that, and then turns to his side with an accusing glare. "paps, i told you to stay behind me! i can't risk her catching you off-guard again!"

* _"sweetheart, **please**. i'm beggin' ya, don't make me watch this. don't make me listen to ya scream."_

Your chest clenches, and you bite back a sob. You can picture his face and the expression he'd be wearing right now. You can almost see it...

"I'm so sorry."

Sans turns back to you, his smile tight again. "it's too late for sorry, chara." He grabs your arm and stretches it out, pinning your palm down with his knee, the snow crunching around it. 

* _"don't be sorry. just **reset.** "_

His voice sounds tender--pleading.

Is this what it's like to have truly gone mad?

Maybe your SOUL finally broke beyond repair.

Sans presses the serrated edge against your wrist.

"I'm sorry."

Sans scoffs, bearing down with the weapon. You feel it break the skin and draw in a hissing breath. "if you're really sorry, let's make sure you can never hold a knife again."

* _"fuck, fuck, yer not hallucinatin'! **reset**!"_

The **RESET** button flashes in front of you, glitching in and out of existence. You try to focus on it, but Sans starts sliding the weapon back and forth, slicing through your skin and sinew, only halting when bone hits bone. You scream bloody murder, your vision fading, and yet... the button only becomes brighter.

* _"listen, i haven't given up on you, so ya don't get to give up on me!"_

You were so tired before--swimming in guilt when you thought back to your timeline. The entire reason you ended up here was because you had been thinking about dust, about how you caused the deaths of everyone you loved. That's how you ended up here, on the brink of madness with a version of Sans who had killed everyone, too--who had been consumed by LOVE. This was something that you could've let happen, if you had been possessed again by Chara when you **RESET** that timeline. 

* _"this isn't your timeline, sweetheart. if ya wanna make things right, then stop lying there and do somethin'."_

The button keeps flickering in and out of existence. 

Sans struggles to cut through the bones of your forearm, and finally sighs, dropping his bloody bone. "welp, gonna have to do this the ol' fashioned way." You hear a thrill to his voice.

* _"don't ya wanna see me again?"_

You nod, bracing yourself while Sans shifts his weight off your palm to place one hand on your forearm, the other gripping your fingers.

* _" **then reset n o w !** "_

The words are shouted desperately, and the button finally flashes whole with all of the letters filled in, even if the pieces are broken and glitching. You summon your strength and slam your other hand into the button, its light overtaking the scene and blocking out the pain of Sans snapping your wrist just in time. 

When the light fades, your body no longer hurts, and you're in one piece, though still lying on the ground, staring up at the trees. 

And then **RESET** button finally shatters. 

Panic wells up in your chest. "Sans?" 

You hold your breath, listening desperately for his voice.

"Sans? Are you there?"

There's silence... and then, a voice comes from your side, low and filled with amusement.

"welp, you're half-right."

You abruptly sit up and twist around.

"honestly, though... i prefer to go by g."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, do you guys see why I could never write Red's POV for when the Reader died?  
> It's because he never saw her die!  
> Remember the voice at the end of the HT!bros chapter?  
> Yeeepp, he's been trapped in the Void ever since she was killed.  
> And _yep_ , he's seen **everything** since then.


	15. *You're glitching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *You and this timeline have something in common. You're both glitching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About time, right?
> 
> Gaster!Sans and this timeline is based on [Echotale](https://yoralim.tumblr.com/post/139237155747/echotale-timeline-post), although I did take some creative liberties with the Underground and G. 
> 
> _Last time on BPT_ , Red begged Readz to RESET, Dust!Sans chopped off her arm, and when she finally did gather the Determination to RESET, her button shattered and she ended up calling for Sans. A voice greeted her, and when she turned to G, he chuckled and told her she was half-right. Her arm was restored upon the RESET as well.

The skeleton sitting on a log beside you is one that you don't recognize. 

His skull doesn't look like Sans's or Papyrus's, and a single golden eyelight is trailing appraisingly down your supine form. One of his hands is holding a cigarette to his teeth, the end glowing bright as he inhales, and there's a hole cut in his palm that allows you to see the lower portion of his mandible. 

The LOVE-filled Sans's voice echoes in your mind: _i don't like hands with holes in 'em._

Was he talking about this skeleton? This G monster?

Reflexively, you scramble to your feet, kicking up snow in the process. The fight or flight instincts are kicking in again, your breathing heavy and shallow from what just transpired during your last **RESET**. You desperately wish to hear the red-eyed Sans's voice offering you guidance and encouragement, but now you're beginning to wonder if you didn't just imagine it during the shock of being tortured.

Your eyes are burning, and when your back hits a tree--the same tree you were pinned to in another timeline moments before--you jerk away from it, rubbing at a phantom pain in your shoulder. 

G's gaze is piercing. 

"Who are you?"

G shrugs and stands up, striding closer to you with several loud crunches of snow beneath his boots. "told ya already. name's g. the better question here is..." Trailing, he stops directly in front of you and leans down, smoke blowing in your face when he speaks. "who the _hell_ are you?"

This skeleton seems dangerous, and you keep trying to place who he could be. Definitely not Sans or Papyrus--though didn't he say something about being half-right? Your mind's whirling too quickly to process it. 

"Just passing through." Your voice hitches up at the end. This skeleton is even more of a wild card than the iterations of Sans you've met. 

"just passin' through, huh...? funny, don't remember seeing you around before." His cigarette shifts between his teeth as he smiles, reaching out to touch your chin with his index finger. You try not to flinch. You can't even come up with a plausible excuse; it's obvious he can see straight through your lie, so you just shrug a little.

"especially since i don't remember seein' _anyone_ else around before. ever."

You stare. 

"What do you mean, you haven't seen anyone else?"

G shrugs, his hand dropping from your chin to slip casually into his pocket. "jus' what i said. it's just me down here."

"That... that can't be right." Your heart feels like it just swan-dived into your stomach. Did you end up at the end of another timeline wrecked by complete genocide? Was this skeleton crazy, too, consumed by LOVE? "What happened here?"

"dunno." G's watching your reaction carefully, his expression unreadable. "it was like this when i woke up." He takes a drag from his cigarette, finally glancing off to the side. "something happened, but i have no idea what."

Woke up? What, did this guy just take a nap and then everyone vanished from the Underground? As curious as you are, you decide your best course of action is to head deeper into Snowdin, to see what happened to Sans and Papyrus. Maybe you can find a clue at their house, or maybe this skeleton is mistaken.

You move past G, and he watches you for a moment before following. With his long legs, he's easily able to keep up with your hurried strides, and you can hear his crunching footsteps in the snow behind you. Beside that, however... it feels eerily silent in the Underground. 

"where ya headed?"

"Snowdin."

G hums, and when he answers you can hear the smirk in his voice, "just passin' through it, huh?"

You quicken your steps, worry pitting in your gut. "Yep," you mutter distractedly... before you stop dead in your tracks and suck in a deep breath.

This is Snowdin; you _know_ it's Snowdin. It's the only portion of the Underground that has snow. But this place in front of you isn't Snowdin; it's a mismatched amalgamation of Snowdin and the Ruins. Toriel's house is where Grillby's should be, but it looks almost... glitched, as if the two buildings had melted together. Most of the other buildings are either gone, upside-down, or replaced by pillars from the Ruins. 

Sans and Papyrus's house is perched on top of several snowy trees. 

"What the _hell_?"

You whirl around to G, gesturing to the landscape with your arms open wide. "What _is_ this?"

He shrugs nonchalantly, seemingly unperturbed as he tilts his head back to stare at the house as it sways in the wind. It obviously isn't a shock to him. When his eyelight returns to you, his eyesockets narrows slightly, and then he gestures to your arm with his cigarette. "dunno. you tell me; looks like you're fitting right into this place."

You're confused--until you follow his gesture toward your arm. It was the one that was lopped off in the last timeline by the LOVE-crazed Sans, and now it's glitching in and out of existence. White squares appear around the area where he had hacked through it, and you can feel a phantom pain from the injury start to light your nerves on fire. With a shriek, you flail your arm, and it flickers completely out of existence... and then reappears without the glitches. 

You clutch your arm to your chest, and from the look G gives you, you can tell your expression must be one of complete horror. A **RESET** is supposed to do just that--it's supposed to reset what happened to you! 

"so what happened to your arm?"

You ignore him, whirling back toward the mismatched landscape of Snowdin. Sans's lab appears to be missing from the house, but even if you could find it in this glitched timeline, Sans apparently isn't here. You close your eyes, feeling your heart pounding hard beneath the heel of your palm. You try to summon every ounce of Determination you have left, but... 

Nothing happens.

You try again. And again. Your brow scrunches together, your breathing quickens, and you feel your knees begin to tremble. The button shattered when you **RESET** that final time. You saw the little pieces break apart before your eyes, but there had been a part of you that had hoped that was because you were finally in your original timeline. 

But that wasn't the case. No, your glitched **RESET** had just taken you to some equally-glitched timeline, one where you were effectively trapped. 

A hand grasps your shoulder, and your eyes shoot open. G's standing directly in front of you, his brow furrowed above his lit eyesocket. Smoke blows in your face when he inquires, "you ok there, sweetheart?"

Instantly, you envision the red-eyed Sans standing there in front of him, the image conjured by the smell of smoke, the endearment, and the fur-lined hood. "Sans..." his name comes out as a whisper, and then you shove away from G and shout again to the sky, "Sans! Sans, can you hear me?! Please, Sans!"

"kid." G's expression is unreadable as he reaches out to you again. "just who the hell are you?"

Had you been going insane during the last timeline? You _know_ you'd heard Sans speaking to you back then--the Sans that held you, that spent years hoping you'd turn up again. He was still out there somewhere, wasn't he? Or had your connection been severed when the button shattered?

"I've got to find a way to get out of here," you blurt, jerking from G's grasp and walking around him. "I've got to get to another timeline. Do you know where Sans's lab is?" You don't see it beneath the skelebros' house--and you have a perfect view of the bottom of their house. 

You can hear G's boots crunching in the snow behind you. "so that's what you meant by just _passin' through_ , huh? welp, only lab i know about might be in hotland."

"Alphys's Lab, you mean?"

"mm... was it her lab?"

You pause at the edge of Waterfall. "Her? Wait, I thought you'd _never_ seen anyone else."

He stares at you, tilting his skull. "i haven't."

"Then how do you know who Alphys is?"

His smile is humorless. "got some _friends_ that know her." He drops the filter of his cigarette and grounds it out beneath his boot, immediately reaching for another in the front pocket of his jacket. "better question is why're ya screamin' for sans?"

You resume walking straight into Waterfall. You're expecting it to be different, but the entrance seems the same, the cavern dimly lit by luminescent mushrooms. "You didn't even question when I said I was from another timeline."

"yeah, well... seems obvious you're not from around here, given the state of this timeline."

"You mean since everyone's gone? You're here, so why isn't it possible for other people to be here?"

"i'm a special case."

"A special case that apparently has 'friends' yet no one else is in this timeline? What'd you do, kill all of them to gain LOVE?"

"what? what the hell kind of timeline are _you_ from?" You can hear him stop walking, and you know you've caught him off-guard. Your arm throbs at the memory, and you glance down to see it beginning to glitch again. You flex your fingers and focus, and it comes back into existence. Your heart's hammering in your chest, and you feel sick. 

You glance over your shoulder to find him staring at your arm. "You really don't want to know."

You cross into the next area and bring your hand up to shield your gaze; this portion of Waterfall is unexpectedly bright. When your vision adjusts, you notice the cause--the river that usually cuts through Waterfall is now the river of lava from Hotland. It seems like the glitches only continue throughout the Underground, and the realization makes your heart sink. If everything is out-of-order, how are you supposed to find something to help you?

"Is Alphys's Lab this way?"

"under normal circumstances, probably."

Your brow furrows. "You mean this timeline used to be normal?"

G shrugs. Ugh, you're tired of him being so vague. 

"Okay, so what is this way? Is Hotland mashed into Waterfall? Is the Capital and New Home in Hotland? Are we going to find more of the Ruins and Snowdin?"

He shrugs again. "dunno."

You whirl to face him completely, arms held out in exasperation. "What do you mean, 'dunno'?"

"never been much further than this."

"But you--" You take in a deep breath, and so does he, the end of his cigarette glowing bright red. "What _do_ you know, G?"

"i know that ya never answered me before, sweetheart. how do you know sans?"

Your jaw clenches, the thought of red-eyed Sans resurfacing. "Don't call me that!"

G raises another bony brow and then steps forward. "ya'know what i _do_ know?" He stops directly in front of you and lightly chuckles. "you, my _dear_ , are too _hot-headed_."

And with that, he reaches out and pushes you over the edge, directly into the lava.

Your shriek echoes off the walls, and you flail, trying to grasp his jacket and just barely missing the sleeve. G smirks as you fall backward, and the moment right before you hit, you think about the fact that you don't get a mulligan this time. Death is permanent. 

_I'm sor--_

The lava is cold.

Being submerged in the lava is like taking a swim through the Waterfall river. It's freezing, and you jerk out of the liquid, gasping and clutching the side of the rock. When you slick your hair from your eyes and look up, G's staring down at you with a shit-eating grin. "thought ya needed to _cool down_ , dear."

"You bastard," you ground out, and when he chuckles, he reminds you of Sans. He reaches out, and you stare at the hole in his palm for a moment before grasping his hand and letting him pull you from the water. It reminds you of someone, but you can't quite put your finger on who. 

"aw, c'mon. i already knew that it wasn't real lava. despite what they do in your messed-up timeline, we ain't killers here." He winks, and you find yourself glaring. 

"Well, that timeline technically wasn't mine. It was one I was running from."

He raises that brow again, apparently intrigued. "how many timelines have ya just 'passed through'?"

You start to count on your fingers, but then remember your rapid descent through the timelines that lead you to the space one. "I honestly... don't know. More than ten?"

"what? how's that possible?" G stares at you, tilting his skull to the side again. He regards you for several seconds before he mutters, "determination?" almost to himself.

"Something like that, yeah." It's your turn to shrug, although you're clutching your arms close to your body in an effort to warm up. Since the lava isn't actually hot, it's still as chilly as ever in the caverns, and now you've taken a nice dip in ice water. Without your **RESET** s to rely on, it would be a shame to die to hypothermia. "Do you happen to know where the real lava is? Or somewhere warm? Or is that another 'dunno'?"

G smirks, leaning in. "welp, you could always take off your wet clothes and lie against me to absorb some of my body heat."

You pluck the cigarette from between his teeth and toss it into the lava. His mirth instantly fades into disdain. "ya _do_ realize there's a finite amount of cigs in the underground, right?"

"Now there's one less, _and_ we're even for you pushing me in."

"fair enough," his tone is short, and he grabs your arm, propelling you forward through the cavern. His grip is firm, and he's much stronger than he looks. 

"Wait, where...where are we going?"

"didn't ya wanna get dried off?"

"Yeah, but...!" You worry that you pissed him off and pull against your arm. Surprisingly, your arm comes free... but it's completely transparent, the outline covered in white, blocky glitches. G twists around, his jaw snapping shut when he notices your chest heaving as you stare at your arm, in midst of a panic attack.

"geez. calm down, dear. did'ja lose that arm in the last timeline?"

You nod, swallowing hard around the lump in your throat. Most of your arm phases back into existence, but the glitches remain this time, no matter how hard you focus. 

"i'm guessin' your arm is partially stuck in the other timeline. if ya stay here too long, you'll probably lose it for good."

"I... I thought you said to calm down!" It's getting hard to breathe again. G sighs and grabs your opposite shoulder, pushing you forward again. You barely manage to start moving your legs so you don't trip. 

"one thing at a time." You're barely moving, so G rolls his golden eyelight and hefts you into his arms. The fur of his hoodie tickles your cheek, but you barely have time to attempt to grab his jacket for balance before he unceremoniously tosses you over a fan. You recognize them from Hotland, only instead of this one propelling you over a gap, it shoots you upward into the air, drying your clothing and hair with warm air. 

Floating is actually pretty fun--or it would be if you weren't worried about the state of your arm. You hadn't cared about it when you were prepared to let the LOVE-crazed Sans torture and kill you, your mind whispers. If it hadn't been for the red-eyed Sans... you would have given up. But if he's still out there, able to somehow watch your progress... then you need to find a way back to him. 

"ever done anythin' like that before, kid?"

You can't help but smile when you glance toward G. "Actually, I once floated in space."

His eyesocket widens. "the hell kind of adventurous life do you lead? that another timeline?"

You nod. "One where the monsters are trapped in space instead of Underground."

He stares for a moment before he shakes his head. "interestin'. damn, i'd love to have those kind of adventures. i'd like to see the world--ya'know, outside of this mess."

"I just want to go home... or I did. Now, I'd like to find someone. I didn't think it was possible before, but..." You trail off, staring up at the ceiling, watching it blur. Your eyes are watering. "He's out there."

G's silent for a long moment, but he finally snaps his fingers and you feel a heaviness in your chest. Blue magic grips you and pulls you from the rush of warm air, to plant you firmly on your feet in front of him. 

"...your soul--" he begins, but you cut him off.

"Blue magic, huh? Does that mean you're a Sans? Or maybe a Papyrus?" You wipe your eyes on the back of your sleeve, while pretending to fix your hair. "You said I was half-right earlier, right?"

G shrugs again, reaching for another cigarette--and then seems to think better of it. Maybe there really is a finite amount, and he's afraid you'll waste his supply again. Or maybe he decided chain-smoking wasn't in the best interest of his cigarette stash. "half-right as in i'm half-sans." His eyelight searches your gaze, and he sighs. You're giving him a rather blank stare. "sans's soul is within me... as is gaster's."

Your brow raises; that's new. At this point, nothing really surprises you anymore, though. "You have two souls? Sans and... Gaster?" The name seems so familiar. You struggle to recall anything Sans might have told you, or that you might have heard around Hotland. "Sans's mentor, right? The Royal Scientist that fell into the Core?"

"fell into the core, huh...? not quite. in this timeline, the core overloaded. it changed everything, absorbed most monsters. sans and gaster ended up merging, pivoting into somethin' else." He changes his mind about the cigarettes and lights another up. "me. and i don't have two souls; i have three. my own soul's in here, too."

"But if they became someone else, then you didn't exist before the Core overloaded, right?"

He nods.

"Then how do you have a SOUL of your own?"

"i'm a new monster, sure, but a monster all the same. sans and gaster are just a part of me." He shrugs. "i can hear 'em."

"You can?" Hope blossoms in your chest. Gaster was a brilliant scientist, as was Sans--if they're both inside G, maybe they can help you get out of here! "Can they tell you anything about how I can get out of this timeline?"

G exhales a heavy breath of smoke, tilting his head again. It occurs to you that he seems to do this whenever he's listening to someone else. "ever since you've shown up, they haven't shut up. the funny man feels somethin' weird stirrin' in his soul. he keeps tellin' me to protect ya, while gaster... he wants to know all about the other timelines and what you've seen."

"That didn't really answer my question."

"yeah, well, it's annoying tryin' to listen to you _and_ them, kiddo." The cigarette shifts as he scowls, raking his bony hand against the top of his skull. "the... core. the core might be able to help."

"I thought it overloaded?"

"the old man thinks it's what's causing the shifts around the timeline. we jus' have to find it."

You quirk a brow. "Shouldn't it be at the end of Hotland?"

G sighs and starts walking again, gesturing for you to follow. "is anything where it's supposed to be."

"Good point."

"can't hurt to check, though. let's go."

The two of you walk through Waterfall in silence, G trekking slightly ahead of you. Up ahead, the walls are made of solid ice, but they're see-through and beautiful. The river is still 'lava', but all the crossings are now made of slippery ice. G slides across no problem, but your feet shoot out in front of you, and you effectively bust your ass and slide across on your back. 

He has the audacity to laugh at you. 

"hopin' for an _ice breaker_ there, dear?"

"Ha ha. If you mean breaking my tail bone on the ice, then I probably just succeeded."

You catch G by surprise, and he snorts a little. 

" _ice_ one, kid." He helps you up, and you can't help but see Sans in his smile. Now that you know the two of them are inside G, it's easy to see he's helping you because of the strange way Sans feels and the way your circumstances intrigue the scientific mind of Gaster. 

"Can I ask you something, G?"

He's still smiling. "you jus' did."

"What was this timeline like, before? What was Sans like? And Papyrus?"

A shadow falls over G's face at the mention of Papyrus, and he turns, continuing through the icy cavern. "normal enough, i guess. no one went to space or killed for LOVE." He shrugs, idly running his fingertips along an ice wall. "sans and gaster were working in the lab for a way to break the barrier. harness determination. we--they--overloaded the core with an experiment and that's why everyone else is gone and it's like this. 'cause of them."

It sounds almost like your original timeline, only with an experiment gone awry. "If we can get to the Core... can we reverse this?"

"heh, no idea." You fall into step beside him, and he gives you a sidelong glance. "how'd you go through timelines, anyway?"

"Is Gaster asking that?"

"nope, i am."

"I guess... you're right about the Determination. I had enough to be able to **RESET** or **LOAD** at will. Only something... happened to those options. The **LOAD** glitched early on and broke, so I could only **RESET**. But instead of **RESET** ing my timeline, I ended up in a new one every time I used it. Or... every time I... died."

G appears alarmed, stopping mid-stride to stare at you. "wait... you died?"

You nod, looking away. "More than once, yeah. Not all the timelines were friendly."

"huh, so much dt that it wasn't just your soul that persisted after death. it refused to perish, so you were able to bend the timeline to your will, to come back at a pivotal moment before it happened." You glance back to G, only to find him staring off into space with a wide grin on his face. He pulls his hood up over his skull when he notices you staring at him. "sorry. i should feel horrified that you died--and part of me does--but the other part is reeling with the implications. what can i say? gaster's a freak like that." He shrugs. 

You're a little glad you never met Gaster; he probably would have wanted to experiment on you. "Well, does he have any more theories?"

"he's thinkin'," G replies, continuing on. The corridor quickly ends, and what used to be Hotland abruptly appears... only the lava pits are filled with snow, the ghost houses are on the roof, and where the Lab should be is just a massive collection of Sans's overflowing mailboxes.

"I'm going to guess that jumping in that snow would be a bad time, huh?"

"yeeeahhh, i wouldn't do that."

When you reach the mailboxes, G reaches into one and pulls a hotdog out from a pile of junk-mail. "Wait--has there always been...?"

"monster food doesn't spoil, so don't look so horrified." G grins and holds it out to you. "hungry?"

"For junk-mail hotdogs?"

His grin has reached shit-eating territory. "i prefer to think of 'em as priority shipping 'dogs."

He gets an unexpected laugh from you, so you begrudgingly eat the mailbox hotdog because you're pretty hungry, and it gives you a chance to rest. You hop up on the top of a mailbox out of habit--it's something you've done for years, and G quirks a brow but doesn't comment. Instead, he eats his own hotdog beside you and somehow has a ketchup packet to squirt directly into his mouth.

G notices you watching him eat, but before you can comment on how that was quite the Sans thing to do, he blurts, "what's the deal with you and sans, anyway?"

You nearly choke on your hotdog. "What do you mean?"

"oh, c'mon. you didn't question the fact that i said sans wanted me to protect you, you keep calling his name like he's going to drop from the sky and rescue you, you seem to know an awful lot about him... so, are you his mate in some timeline or what?"

"Well..." You think of Sans kissing Toriel and then the look on his face right before you wrested control of the **RESET** from Chara. You think of red-eyed Sans, and swap-Papyrus, and the sexually-charged skelebros, and then the Sans and Papyrus with the dog bed. Guilt pits as heavy as always in your gut, and you immediately lose your appetite. You don't deserve the title mate from any of them. "Not quite, but something like that?" You can't look G in the eye.

G hums, leaning back against one of the mailboxes. The lid springs open and letters scatter all over the ground. "i figured. the feeling in his soul seems similar. guess he's picking up on the feelings of another sans."

That's news to you. "That can happen?"

"they seem to think it can. probably has to do with the fact that your 'option' was corrupted. since you've been going into timelines that aren't yours, it makes sense that something from your original timeline might transfer to other iterations. like strong feelings, for example."

You brow furrows slightly, and you shake your head. Strong feelings from your original timeline? You can still see Toriel and Sans kissing--and the look of absolute hatred on his face in the Judgement Hall. There's no way any of those feelings came from your original Sans. "I doubt that," you mumble. Red-eyed Sans, maybe, but not _that_ Sans. 

"why else would his soul feel like this?"

You remain silent for a moment and then slide off the mailbox to cram the rest of your uneaten hotdog into the mailbox. You feel something on top of your head suddenly and reach up. Your fingers brush a half-eaten hotdog, while G chuckles.

"sorry. saw you weren't hungry for the rest of your priority shipping 'dog, so i thought you might want a head 'dog."

You remember a time that Sans stacked twenty-nine head 'dogs on your head, while you tried to hold as still as possible even though you really wanted to laugh.

"To be _frank_ , I'm just not hungry," you mutter, recalling one of his puns. G's caught off-guard again and laughs loudly, slapping your back. The head 'dog hits the ground. 

"you're all right. i see why some other sans has the hots for ya, dear."

None of that matters if you're trapped in this timeline, but you don't say that out loud; you don't want to diminish G's mirthful grin. So, you just smile, and the two of you begin walking again. The massive escalators are there, but at the top is the MTT Resort.

"You know... I've _never_ had enough gold to stay in one of those rooms," you remark. "I don't even know what the rooms look like."

"i can take a hint, kiddo. let's go," G chuckles, strolling inside. You follow with a spring in your step, only to discover that the inside isn't what you were expecting. The fountain is the statue from Waterfall, an umbrella over it with a music box playing. Instead of water dripping down onto the statue, the water from the fountain is being pulled _upward_ to the ceiling, and the usual song is playing in reverse. You find it unsettling.

The missing half of the Grillby's sign has merged with the MTT Glamburger restaurant where Burgerpants used to work, and Undyne's house has replaced the restaurant. Only fire lives there.

Surprisingly, the corridor of rooms is in-tact, and G opens one of the rooms to reveal a massive bed with a flat-screen TV on the wall playing nothing but static. You follow him inside and collapse onto the mattress, pleased when your back bounces. "I half-expected this to be a rock in disguise," you admit, laughing. 

"i feel like you're takin' soft beds for _granite_." G grins, watching you from the foot of the bed with his hands shoved in his pockets. The bed is so heavenly that you pat the spot beside you. "You've gotta try this."

"what? you tryin' to score a foursome with only two bodies involved?"

You lift your head up from the pillow. Honestly, if you hadn't heard red-eyed Sans's voice in the last timeline, your answer probably would have been _sure, why not, that sounds interesting._ If you were stuck drifting through the timelines, then nothing that happened actually mattered; you had fucked up _that_ royally.

Then G starts laughing again. "i was jokin'! stars, dear, ya look like you were actually considerin' it! i was just teasin' you." 

Welp, you're mortified. Your face burns, and you manage, "I-I know that! I was trying to think of a clever come-back!" Not a bad cover-up. G plops down beside you, and the mattress shakes as he continues to laugh. You shove his shoulder and stare up at the ceiling, trying to will your cheeks to stop burning. 

"your face looks like it's been pelted with some of that hotland snow."

"Shut up."

G shakes his head, his chuckles finally subsiding. The two of you lie in silence for a moment, and you actually start to drift to sleep. It's been a while since you got a full night's sleep on a comfortable bed. You try to think of the last time...

It was when you were with red-eyed Sans. 

You roll over on your side away from G and hope that he doesn't notice the fact that you cry yourself to sleep.

 

When you wake up, you're not sure how much time has passed, but G's got an arm slung around your waist, and he's drooling in your hair. Nice. You try to wiggle out of his grasp, but his arm only tightens. 

"they looked at other timelines, ya'know." His voice is tired, still half-filled with sleep. You freeze, feeling your heart jump into your throat. 

"What?"

"the experiments. when we--they--did 'em, they were lookin' for other timelines, too. ones where the monsters had broken the barrier. there were some peaceful ones, and some that... weren't. something about possession, some where sans was a hero--some judge that stopped a killer instead of a jus' being a nerdy scientist runnin' experiments on humans."

You're trying not to tremble. If they saw what you did--how you betrayed them all--would G kill you right here and now? Would he run your through with a bone and let that be the end of your journey? Maybe snap your neck or torture you first? Let the scientists inside him experiment on you and your broken determination?

As much as you had given up last timeline... you no longer want to die. You don't want this to be the end.

"I-is that all they saw?" 

Your heart's pounding like a drum, and you hope his arm is low enough that he can't feel it. 

"the human in most of these timelines... looks a lot like you." You swallow around the lump in your throat. "so, i guess what i'm gettin' at... is that when i gripped your soul with my magic, i could feel that it was cracked. did they ever do anything to you?"

Your panic lessens slightly, and you twist to look over your shoulder at G. "Who?"

"the comedian and the scientist of your timeline. did they ever experiment on you or hurt you?"

Relief floods through you. "No, no, nothing like that. It's just, uh... a few of the timelines were pretty rough, like I said. My soul probably got like that from the whole dying-thing. I don't know anything about the timelines they've seen, though." You're lying, but thankfully, G doesn't notice. He seems as relieved as you are, which makes you wonder just what kind of experiments they were doing.

G lets go of you and gets up to stretch his arms above his head, as if it was perfectly natural to spoon you during the night. If he's never been around anyone but Sans and Gaster, and they live in his head, there's a chance that he did think it was natural. You shrug it off and follow G back into the main lobby of the MTT Resort. "so what'd you think of the bed? everythin' you _dreamed_ it'd be?"

You grin. "It was really comfortable. Dunno if it's worth the price, though. The TV didn't even work."

"we'll have to get the zero gold we spent refunded to us."

"There's no manager on duty. We need to write a strongly-worded letter."

"that's probably why those mailboxes are overflowin'. they're filled with complaints about service here." 

The two of you try the lobby elevator, and to your mutual surprise, it works. You're not entirely sure if you should trust the elevator or not, but you step inside and press the button for the top floor. 

Your arm is a mere transparent outline with a few overlayed glitches. You swallow your panic and cross your arms, trying to keep it out of sight and out of mind. 

"the sooner we find the core, the better."

You couldn't agree more and hope that the elevator will miraculously open up at the Core.

The doors open to the sight of the Lab. You exhale a dejected sigh.

"Maybe it has something we could use?"

"worth a shot," G agrees, but when you enter, the interior is that of the throne room from New Home. All of the golden flowers that usually surround the throne are Echo Flowers, each one a beautiful, iridescent blue. 

"I was wondering where all the Echo Flowers were. I didn't see any in Waterfall," you muse.

"eh, i've seen a few here and there. don't get your hopes up; they've broken since the shift."

"Broken?"

"they don't repe--"

_"Broken? Broken? Broken?"_ You hear your own voice echo throughout the room, carried from flower to flower.

G's eyesockets are wide. "welp, guess they jus' don't like me."

"Maybe they--"

Your thought is cut-off as the Echo Flowers begin echo'ing again, your voice vibrating through their petals. Only this time, it's a sentence you haven't uttered in months.

_"If only Echo Flowers could be heard through timelines."_

G goes silent, staring between you and the flowers. You didn't just say that. 

And then, you hear swap-Papyrus's voice echo through them: _"is there someone you miss?"_

_"you miss?"_

_"miss? miss? m i s s ?"_

Vaguely, you remember a time you walked through Waterfall with that Papyrus, before you were slain by Alphys. You had been drinking away you problems on his dime, and you had considered whispering your feelings and secrets to the Echo Flowers, but decided it was pointless if the words couldn't cross timelines.

_"honey, i think you've had enough."_

_"you've had enough."_

_"e n o u g h . "_

G looks to you. "who's that?"

"Papyrus... from a timeline where he acts kinda like Sans?"

_"Sans?"_

_"Sans."_

_"Sans!"_

_"I had enough a long time ago."_

_"--had enough."_

_"We've all gotta atone."_

_"Gotta atone."_

_"Sans."_

_"--enough."_

_"We've gotta atone."_

_"Atone."_

You shake your head and start backing out of the throne room. Your old words are slurred slightly, even when echoed and whispered from flower to flower. You thought you'd had enough back then? Ha! You'd barely even begun, yet you'd already practically given up. It was no wonder that your soul was halfway broken and your **RESET** button had shattered. You're weak, selfish, filled with excuses--

"i think it's tryin' to talk to us."

You're halfway to the elevator when G's voice snaps you from your self-depreciating thoughts. 

"What? The Echo Flowers?"

"no--the core."

This time, his voice echoes across the flowers.

_"the core."_

_"Sans."_

_"Atone."_

_"the core."_

Hesitantly, you begin edging back toward G, staring at the whispering flowers. They keep repeating the same thing over and over. "how else would they know something you said in another timeline if the core isn't involved?"

It makes sense, and from the excited smile that flares across G's face, you can tell Gaster's scientific mind is in overdrive with the implications. "Atone for what? Overloading the Core in the first place?"

"sounds like it," G murmurs as the Echo Flowers begin repeating the phrase. "i think the core's using the echo flowers to communicate, so maybe we can summon the core using them."

"How?"

G bends down, gingerly touching one of the Echo Flowers with his index finger. "most people whisper their wishes into the flowers, right? try somethin' like that."

You stare, slowly coming to crouch at G's side. "You want me to wish for the Core to appear?"

He rolls his eyelight. "put more meaning behind it than that, dear. and be _determined_ about it."

You lean closer to an Echo Flower, though you notice G closely watching you from the corner of your eye. Your faces flushes with abashment; you feel silly. Is this something where he's going to laugh at you again and claim he was just teasing you? You're a little torn on your wish, too. Before, you would have said you wanted to go home to make things right, but now... 

What if red-eyed Sans was trapped somewhere outside of his timeline? What if that was why he could see you getting maimed in the last timeline? If he'd been glitched out of his timeline, it had to be your fault. 

"I just want to go where _he_ is. Please... help me." You whisper the wish into the petals, putting every ounce of Determination you have left behind the words. For a while, nothing happens. Then, the flowers begin to whisper again.

_"Please..."_

_"Help me."_

_"Help me!"_

_"Help!"_

_"Please..."_

And then, the scenery of the throne room begins to shift. You and G both take a step back as the interior darkens and the machinery of the Core rises from the ground, appearing in place of the throne. 

"holy shit," G breathes. "i can't believe that actually worked."

You can't either, but you suddenly feel giddy. The Core actually appeared! You had enough Determination to summon it, and now, with G's help, you can use it to get out of this timeline. You won't be stranded here any longer! 

"welp, kiddo, looks like the core's come to grant your wish. let's figure this out, and--"

His words die in his throat the moment something shoots out of the Core and winds tight around your very SOUL. You barely have time to register the panic on G's face before the blue strings drag you inside a portal opened in the Core.

You're surrounded by a bright white light, and it feels like you're floating, just like when you're in the limbo between timelines. There's no Options before you, nothing for you to select. Is this what dying is like for you--trapped in the limbo, unable to do anything for eternity?

But you can't be dead. Your SOUL, broken and barely held together by those purple shards, is bound in blue thread that seems to be keeping your body suspended. As long as it's still together, you're still alive.

"heya. you've Been busy, Huh?"

_Those words._

"....Sans?"

A deep voice chuckles; it has almost a static quality to it, the words occasionally stuttering as if they were lagging.

"Ehhh, i'm more Like a Genie, wouldn't ya Say?"

Someone appears out of thin air, and you stare down at the skeleton literally pulling your strings. He looks like Sans, his bones and jacket black, while his T-shirt is red--just like his eyesockets and metacarpals--while his smile and phalanges are bright yellow. This Sans jerks on the strings, pulling you closer to his face. One of his eyelights is a dilated blue, rimmed with gold. It rolls up and down your features, his perma-grin widening at the sight of your blatant fear. 

"after All... i just Granted your Wish, kiddo."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the beginning of the end. Honestly, I'm beyond excited for the next chapter; I've been looking forward to writing it for months! So, I _promise_ that it won't take two months to update again. I know those of you who follow [my tumblr](https://tyranttortoise.tumblr.com/) know I've been on an unannounced hiatus, so thanks for sticking with me. 
> 
> Error belongs to [loverofpiggies](http://loverofpiggies.tumblr.com/). If you guys want to read more about Error!Sans, check out the [Ask Error!Sans blog. ](https://askerrorsans.tumblr.com/)
> 
> **ALSO** , check out [this amazing fanart for BPT](https://tyranttortoise.tumblr.com/post/163396809903/quietsilenceus-tyranttortoise-got-my-scanner) drawn by quietsilenceus. It's got the entire cast, and I seriously want it poster-sized on my wall.


	16. *You're Judged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *You're reunited with some old pals and faced with a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY!! If you guys were wondering how Red ended up in the Void/what he did when he found out you were dead... [here's a link for you.](https://tyranttortoise.tumblr.com/post/165335592471/question-how-would-red-have-reacted-in-bpt-if-he)
> 
> I want to thank everyone that's been with me through BPT-- and everyone that's made it this far, despite my sporadic updates. 
> 
> I love you, and I appreciate you taking the time to read this. <3
> 
> Should also probably note that I took creative liberties with Error.

Someone else was pulling the strings, making you dance.

This time, it's quite literal.

The blue strings wrapped around your broken SOUL are attached to the dark Sans standing before you, strung onto his phalanges as if he's a puppeteer. With every twitch of his fingers, the string pulls and your body jerks, forced by the pressure on your SOUL.

If he squeezes too hard, will the purple strands of Perseverance holding it together finally snap?

"You _are_ a Sans, though," you point out, despite his claim of being more like a wish-granting genie. His appearance and bone structure are that of a Sans, although his colors are off. 

"and You're a Glitch," he returns with a shrug. His pinky finger twitches and your arm suddenly lifts of its own accord, momentarily glitching out of existence as it had in the last timeline. You try to avert your gaze, feeling panic pit in your gut. It takes longer to reappear, but it finally does, and the new Sans chuckles humorlessly, his voice crackling with static. The words ERROR appear on his shoulders when they shake.

"From the looks of it, so are you."

Surprisingly, this doesn't piss him off. He stares at you evenly, his eyelights shifting to your SOUL. "and whose FAULT Do you Think that Is?"

You blink. What is he insinuating? 

"What--?"

He suddenly jerks his hands downward and your SOUL draws closer to him in a snap, jerking your body along with it. Your hands fly out to brace for impact, but you stop short just of touching him--or did he take an abrupt step back?

"really Now. your manners Are slipping. Don't you Know h-how to Greet an Old Pal?"

His grin is manic, the ERROR glitches popping up all across his skull and his speech stuttering with the static. You hold his gaze, searching it, trying to come up with who this could possibly be. He's claiming that you met him, but he's not the red-eyed Sans. You _know_ he's not him; _that_ Sans had spoke normally to you two timelines ago. 

"I... I don't..."

His eyesockets narrow slightly in response. "c'mon Pal. you Remember me. you re-Remember what Y-you Did."

His cool seems to be slipping, and you suddenly recognize that expression. Beneath it all, it's still him. 

"You're Sans," you breathe, your heart pounding in your chest so hard that you can feel it pulsing in your fingertips. Your throat suddenly feels constricted and much too dry. " _My_ Sans."

"in the Flesh. W-well not Really." He spreads out his arms to showcase that it's him, but the attached strings only pull the halves of your SOUL. You can feel the strands of Perseverance growing taunt, and you suck in a deep breath through your teeth. He's going to kill you, just like he did in the Judgement Hall. 

Only this time, you won't keep coming back. 

It's a fitting end for your journey, having him finally finish you off. But everything about this is rubbing you the wrong way.

"How did you end up here, Sans?" 

He shrugs, his hands falling to his sides, causing the strings to go slack. It helps to marginally ease the tightness in your chest. 

"when You RESET during Our fight."

"That wasn't _me_ ," you interject, feeling your eyes welling with tears. "I wouldn't..."

He shakes his head. "please. I know You Reset a surface Timeline. no Idea WHY, but... if you Hadn't done that, None of THIS would Have happened."

Your single saving grace is that he doesn't remember why you **RESET** in the first place. He doesn't know the depths of your selfishness. If he did know, you imagine he would have gotten to the point by now and ripped your fractured SOUL in half. The relief must show on your face because he quirks a bone brow. "i Don't c-Care why You did It, either. no Excuse can be a Good One. A-and yeah, at this Point, I know That wasn't You in the Judgement hall. I know YOU ReSeT at the Very End."

He breathes in deep. "and i Made the Mistake of reaching out And g-grabbing You when you did It."

"You got pulled along with me? But this... this isn't where I go when I die or **RESET.** " The place that you usually go is the in-between-- or the Void, or whatever it may be-- and the darkness there is a stark contrast to the endless sea of white that's here.

The glitching Sans shrugs. "don't ASK Me. whatever Y-yOU did caused This. i Ended up here after That."

"Where _is_ here?"

"it Exists outside of the Timelines. time flows differently HERE. i m-May have Gotten Caught between the VOID and the next Timeline. it was AGONY."

A thought hits you as you try your hardest to remember what happened in the Judgement Hall. You could have sworn you remember the knife hitting Sans. "Wait. Were you injured during the fight?"

His perma-grin twitches. "yes, but i STILL had a Fraction of my Health. i Was able t-to Recover. in another Timeline, i wasn't s-So Lucky."

There's something cryptic in his smile. He hates you--you can feel it. You should be scared... and you _are_ ; your heart is pounding in your ears, and your entire body feels numb. But you also desperately want to cling onto his jacket and apologize, even though you both know words will never be enough. 

"What are you talking about, Sans?"

"at First, i was Trapped here, but... i f-Figured out a FEW tricks. i discovered How to ju-JUMP timelines, JUST like YOU. fun Fact, pal: there's a Version of ME eternally bleeding out in The void from That FIGHT." 

You feel your eyes heat up, tears pricking the corners. Is he just messing with you, or is there really a Sans that's perpetually dying from the final blow? After what you've seen... you believe him.

As much as you want to press him for more information about that Sans, you blurt, "If you could jump timelines, why didn't you come after me?"

He waves a dismissive hand, which causes your right arm and leg to jerk with the motion as the strings press into your SOUL. "you were DIFFICULT to Track, at F-first. your powers Always have been Hard to Predict, but gl-GLITCHING? i really Had to put that Quantum physics Degree to GOOD use."

Your mouth feels dry. "But... you found me."

He nods. "i DID. and it Would've been SO e-Easy to Pluck you out of The stars-ForSaken timeline right THEN, but..." He trails off, his grin widening. 

"it's Been INTERESTING to SEE how many Lives you can WRECK."

There's open contempt in his gaze, and your heart plummets. How much did he witness? How many selfish acts? How long did he watch you attempt to live a normal life with the red-eyed Sans, pushing all thoughts of fixing your mistakes to the back-burner?

The tears that had been welling up slip down your cheeks. "I'm... I'm sorry, Sans. I never meant for this to happen. I didn't know this had happened to you."

His fingers curl into fists, and it becomes difficult to breathe. "SAVE your PATHETIC e-Excuses."

"I can still fix this," you plead, and he actually laughs. The sound is deep and heavy with static. 

"YOU really think YOU Could?"

"You can jump timelines, too, right? So that means you're probably the only one that can actually fix my **RESET** button," you press, your mind racing. "I-if you could restore my Options... I could **RESET** everything back to how it's supposed to be. I can fix this." 

"it IS Possible..." A bony brow quirks, and he tilts his head in mock contemplation. "i Could help restore Your ability to R-rEseT and LoAd... but..." He smirks and lifts his arms, showcasing the blue strings threaded across his phalanges. "my hands Are _tied_ , Kiddo."

At that moment, a red-tinted bone shoots out from the endless white expanse, and this Sans acts on instinct, taking a step back.

**MISS**

However, it seems like he wasn't the intended target; the sharp end of the bone cuts through the taunt strings, and the hold on your SOUL instantly goes slack. You gasp, stepping forward to coax your fractured SOUL back into your body. The tightness in your chest ebbs, and you heavily exhale. This Sans's eyelights widen at your release, but when he tries to ensnare you with his thread again, it's blocked by another jagged bone.

Suddenly, someone's beside you. An arm slips around your waist, steadying you and protectively pulling you against their soft side. 

The glitching Sans's perma-grin is back to being tight, wide, and completely manic.

"i was Wondering when you'd Decide to Interrupt."

"yeah, yeah. do ya ever just shut up? or do i need to silence ya myself?" 

You hear the whirl of a Gaster Blaster materializing from above, its maw beginning to open as energy builds within its jaw. 

However, you're not paying attention to the impending fight. No, your attention is riveted on the face of the skeleton holding you. The familiar fluff of his hood is tickling your cheek, and your fingers are gripping his jacket like a lifeline. He's not wearing the sharp suit you last saw him attired in, but the growl to his baritone voice and the intensity of the crimson pinpricks within his sockets are something you could never mistake.

Still, your voice is awed and cautious, constricted by the building tightness in your throat as you fight back the sob threatening to build. "....Sans?"

The sound of your voice softens his infuriated expression, and he momentarily flicks his eyelights down toward you. The corner of his teeth hitches up in the beginnings of a small smirk. 

"'course it's me, sweetheart. i _promised_ i'd find ya again, didn't i?"

_The code word._

You clutch onto him tighter, burying your face in his hood as you hiccup a sob. "And I promised I'd see you again, too..."

The glitching Sans loudly guffaws. "a Touching reunion, Truly. but you might Want to watch out for That one, Red!" You peek over at him, while Red's growl (it's easier to keep the different Sanses straight by borrowing the nickname, you decide) vibrates against your chest. The glitching Sans winks. "she BREAKS her Promises!"

"fuck off, error! jus' put us back in my timeline!"

Error shrugs. "nah. that's NOT Where she Belongs."

"the hell it isn't!" Red snarls, and you hear the whirling of the Gaster Blaster growing even louder. "she belongs with me, so do it or i swear to asgore i'll blast ya to dust."

Error spreads his arms and tips his skull back. "do It, then."

A louder growl rips through Red and you can feel the electric spark in the air as his magic surges. At the same time, Error suddenly smirks and whips his arms backward, the sheen of azure threads becoming visible. The disembodied skull levitating above the both of you abruptly tips forward, pulled by the threads. 

You look up just in time to see its gaping maw aiming at you.

Red swears and tightens his grip on your waist. Just as you suck in a breath, you suddenly appear three feet away from the incinerating blast with Red. Error laughs again and swings his arms toward you, forcing the entwined Gaster Blaster's aim to change direction.

A flare of crimson emits from Red's eyesocket, and the Blaster dissipates. You both breathe a little easier. 

"that was FUN! if You want to Challenge me again, Feel free, buddy." Error slips his hands into his pockets, and the casual air he holds in the middle of a fight reminds you of the Judgement Hall. "i'm Honestly surprised you're DEFENDING her, though!" His grin stretches, while Red tenses. "after everything You've SEEN, you'd Still defend Her?"

Everything he's seen? You feel your body lock up, and you suddenly can't bear to look at Red. You had wondered before, when you heard his voice begging you to **RESET** , if he had been watching you. 

... You really don't want to know how much he's seen. 

You had thought he was gone forever--that you'd never be able to find his timeline again. You had thought that nothing was permanent, that nothing you did in the timelines _really_ mattered. 

Suddenly, you feel as if you can't breathe again, even though Error's strings were no longer wound tight around your broken SOUL. 

"... it doesn't matter," Red finally replies, his voice haggard and raw. He's still got an arm around you, keeping you securely tethered as if he's afraid you'll disappear again. Despite the weight of your sins, you glance over at him and find the most determined expression you've ever seen a monster wear. 

Error blinks. He seems to actually be surprised; his smirk begins to lose some of its luster. "excuse ME?"

"i said none o' it matters, ok?!" His eyelights are mere pinpricks when he glances down at you, meeting your gaze. "... it's ok. i... i know what it's like to feel like ya need to numb somethin', like nothin' matters, an'... we can get past it." He sucks in a deep breath. 

"sweetheart, i'm all yours. ya know that."

Error shudders so hard that you swear you can hear the sound of dial-up coming from the static ERROR messages that keep flashing across his body. "touching. TRULY touching. but ya'know... i'm Feeling like You're BIASED!"

Red lets out a frustrated sigh, his attention shifting back to Error. "what're ya yappin' about now?"

"karmic Retribution!" Error proclaims, and though it's meaningless to you, Red's sockets narrow, the tension in his stance returning. "does Everyone deserve a Second Chance? can they Be a GOOD Person? pfFFffT! the better Question is... what does SHE deserve?"

"What do I...?" you begin to question, only for Error to cut you off.

"dunno. red Here is too BIASED to pass a Verdict, and as for ME, well..." He winks, raising his hands in an exaggerated shrug. "who Am i to JUDGE?"

The word _judge_ strikes a cord with you, and you envision the golden corridor with Sans--your Sans, before he was somehow glitching--standing across from you with a gentle smile.

_*you never gained LOVE, but you gained love._

And then, later... staring at you with a farce of a grin.

 _*heya. you've been busy, huh?_

"You want to Judge me," you flatly state. The last time anyone Judged you, the dancing Sans gave you some friendly advice and then killed you. 

"no way. we ain't playin' yer games, error," Red snarls, both of his arms winding protectively around you. "we're leavin'."

Error chuckles, amused. "YOU think You can get Out of Here without ME?" 

"we don't need you."

Red turns and pulls you along with him, intent on walking away. You stumble forward a step, hesitating as you turn back toward Error--toward your original Sans. You're the reason he's like this, glitching, his colors inverted. 

You dig in your heels and say to yourself more than Red, "I can't leave him here like this."

Red stops short. "look, i get that ya got some kinda history, but this maniac's beyond savin', sweetheart."

"ha! the Abomination is RIGHT! it's too Little, too Late, Kiddo. but We still need t-To deTermine whether or Not YOU'RE beyond SAVING!"

With that same manic grin from before, Error snaps his fingers and several rips appear in the sterile white expanse. Blue thread shoots forward into the inky darkness and snags something in each hole. 

Error begins laughing, and your gaze swing back to him. "did you THINK You were Above CONSEQUENCES?"

He clenches his fists, bringing his hands down to his sides, and the threads snap taunt. Each one pulls a tiny, inverted heart forward... followed by a monster.

You recognize each one of them. 

Wide-eyed with disbelief, you find your breathing coming in short, shallow gasps. The skeleton monsters are confused, staring at one another and issuing several varying confused murmurs as they glance around--until they begin to spot you. 

"honey, you're ok."

The first skeleton to speak is the Papyrus that wears an orange hoodie. You decide that nicknames will make keeping up with this many skeletons at the same time easier, so you store his new alias away as Orange. 

The next skeleton in line is the Sans with a cracked skull, who you know for a fact is the _original_ , original Sans, as strange as that sounds. The first time you fell in the Underground hadn't gone over that great. That Sans is glancing between you, Red (who's protectively stepped in front of you and has his fingers laced with one of your hands), and Error. With a tight grin, he digs his phalanges into his unlit socket. 

"what the hell do we have here?" he queries. "some kinda purgatory? did i finally bite the dust?" You remember him having an axe materialized from bone, so the name Axe springs to mind. 

"nah, i distinctly remember who i was doing before i got pulled in here, and it wasn't death," the Sans with the purple fur vest answers, who you nickname Lust. 

_Why did he have to be here?_ you silently lament, while Red's grip on your hand tightens enough to make you wince. 

" _who_ you were doin'?" The Papyrus with the fur-lined coat and gold tooth groans. You made out with him on a dog bed, so as much as you hate to let his brother's disparaging nickname influence you, you can't help but think of him as Mutt. Especially when he happens to be smoking a dog treat. "for toriel's sake, this is some timeline bullshit."

Error tilts his head, the threads dissipating from their SOULs. "is THIS Really all the skeletons You've screwed? i Could've SWORN there were More.

Axe is staring hard at Error, and his words are tight and measured. "heh, you've got the wrong skeleton. we never did anything like that."

Error just shrugs. "that Doesn't mean She didn't SCREW YOU! after All, i'm YOU."

Axe's fingers dig a little deeper into his eyesocket, his grin fading into a frown. 

Orange leans forward, looking at the line-up. "ok, pretty sure that's some other version of me down there. hey." He gives a lazy wave to Mutt, who blows out a puff of purple smoke and raises a hand.

"sup?"

Lust breaks the line-up and strides over to you and Red, who's openly growling at this point, his bones rattling with rage. You quickly realize that Red's seen the timeline with Lust and his brother; Error likely had him watch as you partook in a threesome with them. He probably even saw you desperately clinging to Mutt inside the cave in Waterfall. 

And yet, he's still holding your hand. He's still insisting that it doesn't matter, that he doesn't care. 

"woah, buddy. wanna chill out? i'm not gonna hurt her; i just wanna see if she's ok. she looks terrified," Lust explains as he stares past Red's shoulder at you. "and her arm is doing something weird." You suppose you probably do look awful. Your body's trembling, and you're gripping the fur of Red's hood with your free hand-- the free hand that happens to be glitching in and out of existence still. You bury it further within the fluff and try your best not to look at it. 

"You remember me," you blurt instead, your voice barely above a whisper. "all of you do."

You always thought that what you were doing in the timelines was fleeting; it didn't matter. Your time with Red was supposed to be a fluke; after all, Sans himself didn't always remember the details of **RESET** s. Even now, he didn't remember why you **RESET** in the first place.

"a night with a human? not really somethin' i can forget," Lust replies with a cheeky wink despite the circumstances. Red reaches out to grip the front of his vest, but Lust possesses the natural reflexes of a Sans and side-steps with ease, shrugging. "seems like i'm not the only one."

Suddenly, blue threads wind around Lust, tearing him back to the line-up. "this Is pretty Disgusting, if you ASK Me. i Didn't bring you h-Here to FIGHT. i brought You here to JUDGE her!"

Each of them know exactly what he's talking about. They're Judges in their timelines.

Orange regards Error with his usual lazy grin, but his gaze is sharp. He's smoking a dog treat now, one that he probably bummed from Mutt. "i'm guessin' you're the sans." He gestures toward you with the smoking treat between his fingers. "the one she was with in her timeline."

Error actually appears confused, the ERROR signs popping up across his body. "that She was with? is t-THAT what She told You?" His grin is cruel and mocking as he cuts his gaze toward you. "what a Little LIAR! i'm from Her T-timeline, YES, but we Were never together."

The admission has surprised Orange and Red, but the others don't bat an eyesocket. Axe already knew as much, Lust never got the chance to talk to you about the other timelines, and Mutt's been quietly trying to piece together what's going on. 

"you want us to judge? fine," Mutt speaks up while Orange stares at you and Red. "i'll judge. i'm not in a rush to get home." He shrugs, and Axe slightly nods, mirroring his sentiment. "got a feelin' time flows differently here, anyway. but what're we judging her _for_ , exactly? and who the hell _are_ you?" 

"you're JUDGING Her for her Actions across Your timelines. she Did whatever She wanted. she c-CAUSED all of THis. pass Your JUDGEMENT-- is She worth Saving? or d-DOES she belong h-Here like the GLITCH she IS?"

Red shakes his head, drawing you back a step. "she ain't stayin' here. that's jus' not an option, error. she's stayin' with me."

"then BOTH of You c-Can rot on Opposite sides of This PLACE for all i CARE," he responds with a shrug. 

"honey?" While Red and Error are glaring at one another, Orange catches your attention. "maybe you should explain things."

You suck in a deep breath and untangle yourself from Red, who looks affronted when you step away from his protective grip. You rub his shoulder to reassure him, and then address the line of skeletons. 

"I'm... well, I'm really glad to see you guys again," you admit, smiling despite yourself. "Wish it was under different circumstances, but... okay. That Sans--" you break off to gesture toward Error, who wiggles his fingers toward the others. "--is from the timeline I **RESET**. Something happened, and I... I wasn't myself." Your gaze drops from Orange's, and you stare at the strings of his hood instead. "I watched... as my body killed everyone I loved."

_I STILL BELIEVE YOU CAN DO BETTER._

You shudder slightly, but keep going. "I was selfish, and everyone died. I made it to the Judgement Hall, and... Sans stopped me. But when I was finally able to **RESET** again, apparently... he got pulled with me, and stuck here." You gesture to the bright space surrounding you. "Between the timelines, wherever this is. It changed him, while I ended up going through the timelines, unable to get back to my own."

It's the first time you've ever admitted what happened. Every time, you've always been vague, telling them that something happened in your timeline without specifying. Most of the skeletons you've met assumed something happened with your lover, although you know you've admitted you were the cause to Mutt. 

You still can't quite bring yourself to tell them _why_ you initially **RESET**.

"oH, PLEASE! you d-Didn't want to get back To your Timeline. YOU shacked Up with That ONE--" He jabs a phalange at Red. "--for a MONTH or More! you Slept with BOTH of the Lust bros AND that MONGREL." Error's quoting Mutt's brother, you realize, which draws a glare from the Papyrus in question. "who KNOWS What you Did with the Other smokestack. i'm only Surprised you Didn't jump that Horrorshow's BONES."

Orange looks a little hurt, but he's trying to keep his cool. Lust is nonplussed; sexual acts are the norm where he's from. Mutt's annoyed at Error, but otherwise doesn't seem to care. And Axe is staring hard at the glitching Sans.

Red's eyelights, however, are extinguished. 

"what's she on trial fer, error? abandonin' you? **reset** in' yer perfect timeline?"

"her SELFISH Misdeeds throughout the Timeline. she's Being judged for ALL of it."

Orange speaks up, "so, shouldn't we talk then?" Red refuses to look at him; instead, he's glaring at the ground, his fists balled at his sides. Orange catches your gaze and holds it. "honey, i'm glad you're alive. i watched you die, and the timeline **reset** without ya in it. but i'm not really sure what's goin' on." He drags a hand across the back of his skull, bone scraping bone. "where did you go, hun?" 

It takes you a moment to remember that you had ended up in the musical timeline after Alphys had cleaved you with that battle axe. If Error was looking for a guilty Judgement, he should have brought the dancing Sans into this limbo. That Sans had already Judged you, eliminating any source of a threat to get you away from his brother. His advice had also cemented your decision to be vague about what you've done. 

Though, you suppose if there was ever a time to come clean... it should be now, in front of all of them. 

"Every time I died or **RESET** , I ended up in another timeline," you explain. "After what happened with Alphys, I went to one where I was Judged, you could say. That Sans killed me, and I ended up... back in Red's timeline somehow." You turn toward Red to find that the pinpricks of light in his sockets have returned. Although he looks wrecked, he still nods. 

"a miracle, if ya ask me. i waited over thirty years to find 'er again." His gaze shifts to the line-up of skeletons standing in front of you. "she's _mine._ i don't care if any o' you bastards think she's yours--or if ya even judge her not worth savin'. i'll dust all o' ya if i have to." His voice is tight, the words practically spat. You know he means it; he was willing to fight his own brother over you. 

Orange raises his hands, palm-out. "no one's picking a fight with you, pal. i just want to know the facts since i got drawn here."

Error scoffs, his grin mocking. "oh PLEASE. like this one Didn't jump Your BONES the Second she ended Up in YOUR Timeline."

Orange shrugs. "nope, sure didn't. all she did was get wasted and puke glitter everywhere."

 _He's lying,_ you realize, but his expression gives nothing away. You may not have jumped his bones, but you kissed him desperately and then proceeded to give him a blowjob. You would've gone further, had it not been for his brother waiting for you downstairs. Orange had claimed that he felt drawn to you. Now, you weren't sure what he was thinking, but you felt like he was protecting you with his omission. 

Apparently, it had taken Error a few timelines to locate and watch you because while he may have figured out you went to that timeline, he seems surprised, a brow raising with incredulity. "REALLY now? that's ALL?"

Orange evenly holds Error's gaze. "yep. she seemed pretty torn up about somethin', so i watched over her while she got wasted." 

Error's expression falls, while Red touches the side of your hand to draw your attention. "when did'ja go into the beanstalk's timeline?" 

"After the first time in yours."

This seems to placate him, and Red squeezes your hand. 

Shouldn't you be coming clean? 

"ok FINE, You may Not have BONED that one, but red And i BOTH know You did THAT One. his Brother too!" Error pulls his hand back, and the strings around Lust cause him to stumble forward. 

"guilty as charged," Lust agrees with a wink. "paps wanted to join the royal harem, and what better way than pleasing a human?" 

"royal harem?" Mutt repeats, before he quickly shakes his head. "nevermind. i don't wanna know."

Lust shrugs. "way of the world. where i'm from, there's nothing from with sex. most of our magic is geared to it, but that's because the entire underground's in a constant state of heat. if we're judging her because she boned some skeletons, then what's the big deal?"

"the Big DEAL?" Error's voice raises, crackling with louder static. "you haven't been Paying attention Have YOU? she's a GLITCH! an ANOMALY ripping Apart timelines because of Her Own SELFISHNESS!" 

Lust smirks. "she didn't rip apart mine. my bro was really happy, and i had a great time."

Red growls again. "keep talkin' like that, perv, an' _i'm_ about to have a **g r e a t t i m e.** "

Error waves a hand. "i should've KNOWN an Abomination like LUST wouldn't Know right from Wrong. well, she STILL screwed that MONGREL over There! almost Did his BROTHER too, Right in front of Him!"

You pull your hand from Red's; you can't will yourself to keep holding it when you're forced to admit that in front of him and the others. You feel dirty, but Mutt just stares at Error with the same scrutinizing gaze Orange possessed.

"so? seems like you already know what happened, so what? ya want me to judge her a glitch that deserves to be trapped here? she already told me she felt guilty, that she wanted to find a way to fix things." He takes in a deep drag of the dog treat, and when he continues, indigo smoke curls between his fangs. "tried to help her get back to her timeline, but eh... never did finish up my work on the machine. not surprised it didn't work." 

"you Didn't have all the FACTS then!" Error insists, before turning toward the final Sans iteration. Axe has been staring at Error the entire time, his expression unreadable. "what about YOU? You KNOW what She did. thanks To her, Your entire Timeline is TERRIBLE! monsters go Hungry! your Brother has Suffered -- and so Have YOU!"

Axe's dilated eyelight finally shifts to you, and he tilts his head. "heh, i finally figured out what's goin' on here."

You blink, a quizzical sound catching in your throat. 

He gestures toward Error. "that version of me's jealous."

Error bristles. "what the HELL are You blabbering About?!"

Axe's grin isn't kind, but his attention shifts to Red. "why're you interested in her?"

"i ain't gotta explain myself to you," Red snaps. 

Axe rolls his crimson eyelight. "ok, fine. what about you, pap?" He glances over at Orange, who begins to protest. "don't bother. it's obvious you an' her had something going on, too. or you _felt_ something, at least."

Orange sucks in a deep inhale of his dog treat to regain his composure, before he nods. "yeah, you're right. i felt something... like there was something in my soul, calling out to her. it was familiar. made me wanna protect her," he admits quietly, without looking at you.

"oh!" Lust bounces on the balls of his feet. "i felt that, too! it was like i already knew her." His attention lands on you again. "i wanted to talk to you about it, but you **reset** before i got the chance."

Mutt sighs. "yep, what they said." He doesn't go into detail, instead focusing on smoking. 

"so? what Does THAT have to Do with Anything?" 

Axe shrugs. "eh, theories ain't really my thing anymore, but i'll take a _crack_ at it and say that the feelings're residual."

Orange seems to connect the dots first. "like an echo through the timelines?"

Nodding, Axe continues, "seems like all of us have the similar, if not the same, souls."

Error shakes his head, scowling. "that's IMPOSSIBLE. feelings Don't carry through Timelines!"

"normally, that may be true," Mutt interjects, "but you said yourself that she's an anomaly-- a glitch. that could cause some unusual effects."

You can see Red shaking his head in your peripheral vision. "whateva. i _refuse_ to believe that what i feel fer her has anythin' to do with someone else's feelings echoin' in my soul. that's fuckin' dumb."

"doesn't mean your feelings aren't real. jus' means you felt something in your soul when you saw her," Orange claims, but Red just keeps shaking his head. 

"no. fuck that."

"red's Right," Error insists. "it seems like You're trying to Suggest _I_ had Feelings for Her, and that's NOT Possible."

"He's telling the truth," you finally speak up. "I had feelings for him, but he had them for someone else."

Everyone seems surprised by your claim, Error included. Axe is the one that blurts, "who?"

"Toriel."

Orange and Mutt both start laughing, Lust stares wide-eyed, and Axe and Red just look confused. "that's not possible," Axe flatly states.

"It is. I saw them kissing the night I..."

The words stick in your throat. 

"tori and ME?" Error's brow is furrowed. "that Can't be Right. there's no Way i Would've..." He trails off, something finally seeming to click. "wait, Were you about t-To SAY the Night you R-reSeT?" Everyone's staring at you now. 

You never admitted your most selfish mistake out loud; you never confided that in any of the iterations of the skeleton brothers. They deserve the truth; they deserve to know why you **RESET** in the first place, that the reason this entire adventure across the timelines began was one that born of pettiness. 

Nodding slightly, you whisper, "Yes."

Error sucks in a sharp breath. "you **RESET** a s-Surface timeline Because I allegedly k-KISSED toriel?"

You meet his wide-eyed stare and swallow past the building lump in your throat. "Yes. I'm sorry, Sans, I..."

The apology is cut off by Axe laughing. He's actually doubled-over, his palms pressed against his femurs, guffawing louder than you've heard any Sans laugh. 

"oh, kiddo. you fucked up big time, huh?" he manages between chuckles, his shoulder still shaking even when he tries to pull himself together. "error never had feelings for tori. i know because _i'm_ him, right? and i never did. she's a buddy is all."

You can still vividly remember the kiss. Toriel, bent with her arms around Sans and her lips pressed to his teeth. The faint blue glow that indicated his magic tongue was in play. 

The wine glass loosely clasped between her fingers.

But there's no way... Axe can't be right.

"You must've developed feelings for her, then." You shrug, while he shakes his head.

Error has more and more ERROR messages popping up across his form. "... you REALLY r-ReSeT because of THAT? r-r-REALLY?" He's shaking, but when he takes a step toward you, Red is quick to step in front of you. Error sighs in utter exasperation. "oh, will You just MOVE?!"

"it still don't mean shit to me why she **reset**. she can't change the past, so why does it matter?" Red seems to be reaching his breaking point; he's obviously tired of listening to this. "can we just get to the point already?"

Orange is the next to speak. "you jus' said she can't change the past, but why can't she? why not do a full **reset** and fix it?"

Mutt answers, "her options are glitched."

"But if Error can help me fix them... Or if he can send me back to the original timeline, I won't **RESET** again. I won't," you promise, your eyes growing hot. Error still has a look of utter disbelief on his face, and Red reaches back to grip your hand again.

"you don't owe him shit, sweetheart. you don't have ta go back. you can jus' stay with me. come back to my timeline. i'll keep ya safe."

"OKAY!" Error claps his hands together. "i Like the j-Judgement orange SmokeStack passed. you Claim you feel Guilty, that You've wanted to Fix Things, right? then i'll Offer YOU a CHOICE!"

Your breath hitches. Finally, Judgement's being passed. 

"you can GO with red t-To his timeline And live out Your days selfishly, SEE if he Can really p-Protect YOU."

"You'd... let me go with him?" you carefully ask, feeling as if there has to be a catch. 

"sure, No _strings_ a-Attached. but if you DIE, there's No do-Overs! i'm NOT restoring Your Options."

"you don't need 'em," Red claims. "i'll protect ya."

"yes, Just like You protected her LAST time, huh?" Error's grin is mocking, and Red tenses up. You put a hand on his arm in an effort to get the building magic to abate. The crackle to the air lessens-- slightly. "orrrr You can go Back to our Original timeline. No more REsEtS! and no one here will Remember what You Did."

You blink. "They won't?"

Error shakes his head. "nope. Not even Me. if you Change your Choice, none of This will have Happened." His eyelights shift to Red, and his smile widens. "of Course, that means HE won't Remember you, either. No happily ever After here."

You understood the choice now. Error--your original Sans-- is asking you to choose between fixing the timelines and going back to that pivotal moment that destroyed everything... or staying with Red. 

The feelings you had for Sans when you first **RESET** are nothing compared to what you feel for Red. Back then, he was what caused you to go back into the Underground and free everyone. The voicemail that he (or would it technically be _Axe_?) had left you had been something you had clung to, something that gave you HoPe. You clung to that feeling, your friendship shifting to a crush--and then to much more as you lived through another timeline with him. You had thought you had been in love.

But Red... Red never saw you as a child like Sans had. Red met you as an adult, and even if he had been grasping at something he thought he could never have, he cared deeply about you. And you _had_ been willing to end your journey with him then, to stay by his side in his timeline. He made you so happy. You got to know him as someone separate from your Sans, and though you had been laden with guilt, feelings still bloomed.

And then you betrayed those feelings.

You've messed everything up, sure, but... he doesn't care. Red doesn't care what you did out of guilt in the other timelines, or even the petty reason you **RESET** in the first place. 

He just wants you.

Red turns and wraps his arms around you, threading the fingers of one hand through your hair to tip your head back. "sweetheart, look at me. _look._ you don't have to go back." 

You can't quite meet his gaze. "If I do, I can save him."

"fuck 'im," Red spats. "he discarded you!"

"That's not what happened."

"he could've saved you. he could've brought you from the timelines, but he wanted to watch. he wanted _me_ to watch. he's a jealous bastard!"

Error huffs. "i Only wanted you t-To SEE her for What she really IS."

You shake your head. "He still doesn't deserve this. I didn't know he was stuck in this place."

"and what do i deserve?!" Red's tone is exasperated, his hand falling from your hair to clench beside him. 

"You'd forget about me, Sans." Your watery smile doesn't reach your eyes. "Your life would go on like it was supposed to, and you and Papyrus will reach the Surface."

_You'll fall in love with someone better._

"That's what you deserve."

"no." Red vehemently shakes his head. " _please_ , sweetheart."

Error drums his fingers along his sleeve, his arms crossed. "ugh, Can we just GET o-On with It?! time to CHOOSE!" His arms shift, and he snaps his fingers, his magic flaring. Two choices appear before you.

 **[ R E S E T ]** **[ C O N T I N U E ]**

"the Last time You'll EVER ReSet will take You back to OUR Timeline. but if You choose to Keep going the Way you ARE, you'll Continue in Red's t-Timeline."

The Options float in front of you, and the fact that they don't draw the gaze of any of the others means that only you (and Error, apparently) can see them. 

The skeletons in the line-up are watching you closely, wondering what you'll choose to do. You've been selfish all this time, using them to feel _something_ other than guilt. No matter your choice, you won't see any of them again.

"Thank you for... for being so kind to me." Your gaze sweeps across them, but pauses on Axe. "Either way, _your_ timeline..." Words fail you, and your voice trails.

Axe, however, shrugs. "'s not your fault, kiddo. it's undick's. so don't sweat it, ok?" His smile is nostalgic, even with the glaring crack in his skull to off-set it. "'sides, it's home."

There's still that part of you that wants to fix it. You **RESET** the very first time for that reason--and while you had succeeded in freeing a version of him, you had no idea you'd left behind another timeline. 

You want to hug him, to apologize, to go back and break the barrier no matter the cost. But that isn't an Option. "I'm sorry."

"you've got your own problems, kid," he replies. "and i need to be getting home to pap."

He's right; you're drawing it out. You suck in a deep breath and look between Red and Error. Red squeezes your hand, and you feel it fade slightly, glitching as a reminder of your previous penance. 

Error's expression is hooded, one brow raised in mock query. He looks so different from the Sans you remember -- so bitter and _angry._ You don't fault him for his contempt; he's earned the right to despise you.

Will he really forget if you go back? Or is his loathing enough to create some sort of echo through the timelines, like Mutt and Orange suggested?

Do you want to go back to a timeline where Sans may hate your guts? One where nothing will be the same? 

Steeling yourself, you hold Error's gaze.

"....I'm sorry, Sans. I'll never be able to apologize enough, but I'm so sorry..."

You turn to Red, cup his cheek, and then kiss him. Distantly, you hear a collective gasp, but you focus completely on the feeling of his fangs against your lips and the heat of his magic rushing to his face to pool beneath your palm. 

He parts his teeth to deepen the kiss, the static of his manifested tongue crackling against your bottom lip, but you pull back. His thumb brushes against your cheek, and a tear clings to the distal phalanx. You didn't even realize you were crying, or that you have a death grip on the fur trim of his jacket.

"I love you..." you whisper, the words catching in your throat. It's the first time you've ever voiced those words, and his eyesockets widen. 

His mouth moves, but before he can respond, you reach out and press one of the Options.

Everything fades away.

###### 

.....

All at once, the silence that had swept over you shatters, replaced by a blaring stereo.

You groan, rolling off the bed and smacking it, your fingers clumsily hitting buttons until a stray press happens to land on the Power button. 

Your stomach rolls, and you feel sick, but you manage to grip the edge of a desk and breathe. Deep breath in. Hold it. Slowly exhale. You can do this much. 

There's a knock on your door, steady and insistent.

"please, kid. just talk to me."

You forget how to breathe. 

Unsteadily, you manage to cross the room and grasp the doorknob with shaking, uncooperative fingers. You twist it and tug the door open, your body feeling numb.

Sans and Toriel are standing outside of your door, wearing similar expressions of concern. There's no hate there, no contempt or judgement. If anything, _they're_ the ones that look guilty. 

Their visages blur, and your grip tightens on the door in an effort to keep yourself steady. Your hand feels solid, no longer glitching. 

"My child, are you all right?" Toriel asks, reaching out to you. Immediately, you throw yourself at her, clutching the front of her dress and bawling like a child. 

"I'm so sorry," you sob, while she and Sans exchange confused glances.

"Please... do not cry. Everything is all right," Toriel coos, rubbing your back. 

You're inconsolable for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~The End.~~ Just kidding, there's one more chapter left. Hang in there; I'll have it uploaded within a week. I won't leave you like this.
> 
> I had so many directions I wanted to take this chapter. Originally, Geno!Sans was going to be the Sans from her Genocide run, but it ended up being Error instead. I had planned for her, Geno, and Red to argue, but when I cut him out, I decided to let the other skeles Judge her. Then, I had thought about having the Papyrus-personalities be a part of it, too, but... they wouldn't be inclined to remember her. So, it would've just been a cluster. 
> 
> So what you ended up with was a group of skeles too apathetic and annoyed at Error to Judge her harshly. But, they did bring some interesting points up during their conversations.
> 
> It didn't end up being quite what I wanted it to be, but it still lead to the decision I wanted her to make, so I hope you guys enjoyed it. 
> 
>  
> 
> **Fanart:**  
>  kamiiireru drew [a WIP of the Dust!Sans scene](https://tyranttortoise.tumblr.com/post/167169090548/kamiiireru-heres-a-work-in-progress-of-the)  
> pickledlilys drew [Red and his wonderful fluffy jacket](https://tyranttortoise.tumblr.com/post/166972964938/pickledlilys-you-aint-from-around-here-are-ya)


	17. *You're Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *You deal with your decisions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you to everyone that's read this fanfic. This is the first multi-chapter fic I've actually finished in so many years, and the first Undertale fic I ever wrote. It's been a journey, one that was meant to just be an excuse to bang skeletons but somehow ended up having feelings thrown into the mix. 
> 
> Thank you for hanging in there with me through sporadic updates, and thank you for reading this far. I've made some fantastic friendships through this fic, and I'll forever treasure it. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the end.

Eventually, Sans went back home and Toriel managed to coax you onto your bed while she went to make some tea to soothe your throat. By then, you had run out of tears and simply stared up at the glow-in-the-dark stars you and Sans had arranged into constellations on your ceiling a few years back. One of them was barely hanging onto the edge of the tape. 

Your lips are still tingling with the feeling of a phantom kiss. 

Tentatively, you reach out and close your eyes, experimentally summoning whatever DETERMINATION you can muster. 

But just like Error said, your Options weren't restored. You no longer have the ability to bend time, to get do-overs at the expense of others. Every choice you make from this moment on would be one you'd have to live with.

Sucking in a deep, shaky breath, you run your hands over your face. It feels hot, your cheeks vaguely sticky from the tear tracks. Every time you had tried to open your mouth, to utter something other than some broken apology, you couldn't quite get the words out. 

You should feel relieved to be back in your own timeline, to be back at the moment before you ruined everything, but you're still laden with guilt. 

Toriel returns with some tea, and you sit up in your bed to graciously accept the mug. With her brow creased, your surrogate mother sits on the edge of the bed and carefully watches you. The fur beneath her eyes is dark, as if she's been crying.

"Does that help?" she carefully asks, and you nod, managing a small smile around the steaming rim. 

"Thank you." You voice is hoarse and timid as you take in the sight of her. It feels surreal after these months of passing through timelines... of both watching her die _and_ being killed by her. 

On impulse, you reach out and grab her fluffy paw, squeezing it while you rest the mug on your thigh. You can't meet her gaze. You're not sure you'll ever be able to again. 

How could you have done that to her? Have been so selfish, when she's taken you in and shown you more kindness than your biological parents ever did?

"My child..." Toriel begins, her expression pained. "I am so... _so_ sorry for what happened tonight."

Your heart hammers in your chest, and your fingers begin to tremble. You shake your head, swallowing past the building lump in your throat. "N-no... No, please... don't--"

Toriel interrupts, holding her free paw up palm-out. "I did not mean to hurt you, and I did. I... I know that you have a crush on Sans, dear."

 _Oh god._ Despite everything, you're beginning to feel mortified. All of this seems like it happened a lifetime ago. After everything you've done, the catalyst pales in comparison. 

Your mouth opens and closes, and she continues, "And I did not mean to hurt you with... with that display of affection."

"No, no," you finally manage, gripping her hand tight. "You didn't. I... I was being stupid. It's silly."

You attempt to wave it off, to smile and sweep it under the rug. Words like stupid and silly aren't nearly strong enough, but they're all you can muster. 

Toriel sees through you.

"Still, it hurt you. You have been crying all night, and knowing that _I_ am the cause, i-it..." Toriel's gaze begins to turn glassy, her voice quavering. You've never seen the queen cry before tonight. It makes your stomach churn. 

You set the mug of tea on your nightstand and lunge forward, hugging her tight once more. "I'm so sorry. P...please, don't cry, Mom..."

Toriel rubs your back and hums a familiar, soothing lullaby.

You meant to console her, but she ends up consoling you.

###### 

A week passes, and you try to avoid Sans as much as possible.

It isn't hard. You have your ambassador duties, which includes meetings and spending quite a bit of time with Asgore, going over the current events and whatever needs your attention that day. You end up staying the night at Asgore's house for several days straight just because you know that Sans won't pop in to question you, but you're also careful to still go home to see Toriel so she won't think you're avoiding _her_. You don't know how you can ever make it up to your surrogate mother, but you don't want to see her upset anymore.

You're trying to keep your mind occupied while you figure out what you're going to say to Sans. Should you give him your blessing to be with Toriel and then pretend you never **RESET** and turned him into some sort of Glitch Sans? Or should you confess everything, start to finish, and wait for your real Judgement?

Each night, when you're left alone in the dark with your thoughts, you can't help but think of Red. Every time, your chest feels hollow and it becomes difficult to breathe. When you close your eyes, you can see the intensity in his expression, pleading with you to take his hand and come with him--anywhere, as long as you're together. 

God, you miss him.

Your cycle of throwing yourself into work is cut short one day, however, when Papyrus is intercepts you on your way to Asgore's house.

"HUMAN!" he greets, as boisterous and energetic as ever, his smile bright. He's leaned against his red convertible and wearing a modified shirt that states "BONE TO BE WILD" with the R in _born_ crossed out and an E added in. There are sunglasses taped to the side of his skull, but he tilts his head forward to regard you over the top of them. "YOUR PRESENCE IS REQUESTED AT OUR HUMBLE ABODE FOR A NIGHT OF SPAGHETTI AND MOVIES!"

"Hey Pap," you greet, though your tone falls flatter than intended. You haven't seen Papyrus since you returned to this timeline, and there's a part of you that desperately wants to hug him. You manage to refrain by balling your hands into fists in your pockets. "I'd love to, but I..."

Your voice trails. Should you really blow Papyrus off? You don't want to, but you're not sure you're prepared to face Sans. 

Papyrus pushes away from his car to stride toward you and plant a gloved hand on your shoulder. "I'VE NOTICED YOU'RE WORKING HARD LATELY! YOU HAVEN'T BEEN TAKING MANY BREAKS, EITHER! AS MUCH AS I ADMIRE YOUR WORK ETHIC, IT'S IMPORTANT TO PACE YOURSELF! YOU DON'T WANT TO GET BURNED OUT!!" His smile is gentle, but his grip on your shoulder is firm as he begins to steer you toward his car. You don't fight it; instead, you give in and make your way around to the passenger's side. 

"All right, I _am_ pretty famished," you concede, and his expression brightens. 

"FEAR NOT! THE GREAT MASTERFUL CHEF PAPYRUS HAS PREPARED FOR YOU THE GREATEST OF ARTISAN SPAGHETTI!"

As Papyrus starts the car and pulls onto the road, his scarf whipping in the wind, you find yourself staring at him from the corner of your eye. You've seen many different iterations of him throughout the timelines, but this one is the one that always believed in you -- one of your absolute best friends. You had initially suspected that movie night was a rouse set up by Sans, but now you actually think Papyrus planned it because he's worried about you.

He always worries about you; he always tries to help you.

Your eyes feel hot, so you click on the stereo and goad Papyrus into singing along with a Mettaton song while you sing back-up. It's a welcome distraction. 

When you arrive at the skelebros' house, your anxiety is at an all-time high. You have to breathe in deep to keep from bolting the moment you're out of the car. Papyrus leads the way inside, and sure enough, the living room smells heavily of spaghetti. The self-proclaimed master chef must have been working on his noodles for quite some time. 

"I'LL GET THE FOOD, AND YOU SELECT THE MOVIE!" Papyrus instructs, bounding off into the kitchen and leaving you to your own devices in the living room. It may have been a while, but their house feels like home to you; you easily locate the remote, plop down on the couch, and begin perusing Netflix to find a good movie.

Sans suddenly appears out of thin air on the couch cushion beside you. 

"heya."

"Shit!" you curse, caught off-guard by his sudden appearance. Your hand flies to your chest, and he grins. 

"hope i didn't scare _that_ outta you."

"Ha. No, I'm good," you insist, even though you feel like your nerves are vibrating. Your leg bounces as you turn your attention back to the TV... or attempt to, anyway. You're really just mindlessly flipping through the selection. You cut your gaze toward Sans, and although he's staring straight ahead at the TV with the same expression he always wears, you feel as if he's actually watching _you._

He doesn't remember. He can't remember, you remind yourself. That was part of the deal.

The air is heavy between the two of you, but it's not a buffer; it's a miasma, choking you, and the only way to get it out is to lay out all of your sins right here, right now--

"HAVE YOU FOUND A MOVIE?"

Papyrus's boisterous voice eases the tension and lets you breathe again. You were starting to panic there. You deeply exhale and actually _focus_ on your task. 

"How about a comedy?" you offer, gesturing to a silly buddy movie. 

"A ROM-COM?" Papyrus asks, coming into the living room with a platter of spaghetti in one hand and three plates in the other. He sets it on the coffee table in front of you, and then pulls out forks from the pocket of his KISS THE COOK PLEASE apron. 

"Nah, not this time. Just something funny," you hedge, and he stares at you a moment, then at Sans. Papyrus is more perceptive than he lets on -- you wonder if he can see the tension between you and Sans, the way you're leaning away from him, or if he knows that you've been avoiding him. If he does, he doesn't let on just yet; instead, he nods once.

"THAT SOUNDS GOOD TO ME! LET ME GET THE DRINKS! SANS, A HAND?"

"ok bro." Sans proceeds to clap, and Papyrus's eyelights boggle.

"NOT WHAT I MEANT, AND YOU KNOW IT!" Despite his protests, Papyrus is smiling, and Sans chuckles and follows him into the kitchen. You take the opportunity to breathe, and you rub your hand across your face. You can do this. You can handle this.

The brothers return, and you force a smile as the three of you set spaghetti on your plates and start the movie. Papyrus has gotten good at cooking spaghetti since coming to the Surface and actually taking some classes, and when you compliment his noodles, he blushes and responds with confidence. 

Sans is uncharacteristically quiet throughout most of the movie. Sometimes, he'll crack a joke, but he's missing most of the golden opportunities. He doesn't even react when Papyrus makes a couple of puns--although you unexpectedly snort, and your drink nearly comes out of your nose.

It's a good feeling, sitting on the couch with these two, watching a movie and having dinner. It feels nostalgic...

But it also feels wrong, as if the memories don't quite match up. Whenever your mind wanders, you feel your eyes stinging and growing hot. You're trying not to think too hard about what's happened, to go through the motions of hanging out with the skeleton brothers, but it's difficult. It never quite feels right.

When the movie's over, you automatically stack the dishes and take them to the sink to wash them. Normally, Sans would follow you and "help" by sitting on the counter, swinging his feet and cracking jokes about whatever movie you just watched. It was part of the ritual. Tonight, however, you're not surprised to find Papyrus nudging you out of the way and demoting you to dish dryer while he does the washing. 

Sans is nowhere to be seen.

You feel sick, and you want to leave. 

"CAN I ASK YOU SOMETHING?" Papyrus inquires when he hands you a dripping dish. It nearly slides out of your fingers, and immediately, your heart jumps into your throat. You know what he's going to ask. 

Yet, you feign nonchalant innocence and reply, "Sure, Pap. What is it?"

He scrubs at a particularly caked-on spot of spaghetti sauce with a sponge for a while, undoubtedly using the excuse to figure out how to phrase his question. "DID SOMETHING... HAPPEN?" He pauses, as if considering to elaborate, but finally does with, "BETWEEN YOU AND SANS?"

You look down, drying a dish that's already completely dry. You knew he was picking up on the change--on the way you focused almost exclusively on him while his brother was quiet. Of course something happened. In this timeline, you ran away from the sight of him kissing your surrogate (surro _goat_ , Sans always called her) mother and then sobbed in your room. That's all that this Sans remembers happening.

However... you think back to the dust on your hands and the strings bound around your SOUL as the byproduct of that run--as your Sans--glitched and leaned in with that manic smile.

"...ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?"

You shake your head and find Papyrus has set the dish aside and turned to face you. His brow ridges are knit with concern, and he reaches out to touch your shoulder with a wet glove. 

Your voice catches in your throat, and you feel it tighten, your eyes burning again. You shake your head, trying to form words, but all you manage to get out is a whispered, "No..." Papyrus frowns, but his visage blurs as you try to fight back your tears. The moment his arms wind around you and drag you against his chest, however, you hug him like he's your lifeline. Your fingers bunch into his shirt, and a sob racks your body; it feels like Papyrus is the only thing holding you together. 

You mouth _I'm sorry_ against his sternum, but you can't quite get the words out. You watched him die; you watched him starve. You don't deserve him. 

Papyrus's normally boisterous voice is softer and gentler than you're ever heard it, right beside your ear, "I'M SURE SANS DIDN'T MEAN TO DO WHATEVER HE DID. AND IF HE KNEW YOU WERE HURTING THIS MUCH, HE'D WANT TO APOLOGIZE!"

"H-he didn't," you manage, shaking your head against his chest. You can't will yourself to pull back from his shirt and look at him. "I me-messed up..."

"STILL! YOU'RE OBVIOUSLY SORRY AND HURTING SO MUCH! IF YOU TALK TO HIM, HE CAN HELP YOU THROUGH IT! HE'S NOT THE TYPE TO HOLD A GRUDGE!"

_If only you knew._

You continue shaking your head.

"PLEASE. I JUST WANT TO HELP FIX WHATEVER'S WRONG. I CAN GO WITH YOU TO TALK TO HIM--"

"N-no..." You cut him off; your entire body is trembling now, and you realize it's because you're so terrified of facing Sans right now. You don't want him to see you like this. You don't want him to think this is because of him and Toriel -- because it isn't, not anymore. Their kiss has become insignificant compared to everything else that has happened. 

"NO?"

"..You're helping me right now, P-pap..."

Papyrus squeezes you tighter and grows silent, rubbing your back until your sobs subside. You hold onto him long after, feeling his magic lightly buzzing through his bones. You feel drained. Isn't letting your feelings out and crying supposed to make you feel better?

You pull back enough to meet Papyrus's gaze, and his gentle, encouraging smile makes you feel worse.

"I'm sorry." Your voice is a hoarse whisper.

"DON'T APOLOGIZE! EVERYTHING IS GOING TO BE ALL RIGHT! YOU HAVE MY WORD, SO FRET NOT!" Papyrus grins and wipes your cheeks with his gloves. You try to smile, but your eyes are watering all over again.

He asks you if you'd like to go home or stay, and you choose to go home. He takes your hand and leads you to the car, and you're thankful that Sans isn't in the living room. A part of you had intended on talking to him when he sat next to you on the couch earlier, but you couldn't bring yourself to spare him more than the occasional glance and bit of commentary on the movie. 

On the way to the convertible, you feel like someone's watching you... but when you turn around, you don't see anyone in the windows.

Papyrus drives you to Asgore's house. He's working late, so you know he won't ask questions.

###### 

Another week passes by, and you're beginning to fall back into the routine of your old life. It's still difficult to think of this as your permanent timeline after everything was so fleeting for so long. It's taken you until now to actually get caught up with your ambassador paperwork and remember what you were even doing. 

Asgore has been an immense help.

"Are you finished for the day? I was thinking we could go out for some Nice Cream," the giant goat suggests as you stand from your desk. His smile is as bright as ever, but you've noticed the concerned way he's been hovering around you lately. Thankfully, he hasn't asked questions.

You hope he doesn't start now.

"Sure, I'd like that," you reply, and his expression brightens. The two of you head toward the park, and since the city is primarily monster-dominant, several monsters greet both of you. Asgore is always polite and kind, and your smile is even much more genuine by the time you reach the Nice Cream Guy's cart. 

"Hey, King Fluffbuns and our Fearless Savior!" The rabbit monster grins wide, his ears perked high. "Care for a Nice Cream to add a little sweetness to your day?"

"Please, thank you. It is a beautiful day today, isn't it?" Asgore muses, and when he turns to you, your smile no longer reaches your eyes. You hum your agreement as you take the Nice Cream from the bunny.

"Sure is! It's been great for business!" 

You can only nod along, and after a few more pleasantries, the vendor bids you a nice day. You start down the walking trail in the park, Asgore lumbering beside you, and both of you tear off your wrappers.

 _Love yourself! I love you!_ your wrapper reads. Your fingers flex on impulse--you're about to wad it up--but you stop and fold it, before slipping it into your pocket. 

"Mine says I'm super spiffy," Asgore relays with amusement. You chuckle, and the two of you eat your ice cream while you continue walking in amicable quiet. Asgore and Toriel have always both been understanding and able to read your moods rather well, but you're trying not to be tense. 

The Nice Cream is really good, after all.

"So... I have noticed something is a bit... off, dear."

_Oh no._

You're better at faking when you're with him. After all, you didn't kill him when you... well, weren't _you_. He doesn't even know about what happened with Toriel and Sans. 

"Is there?" you query, focusing on your frosty treat. You try to make your voice light. "I know I've been kinda air-headed lately, but I've just... been tired."

The excuse is lame, even to your ears.

"I found a letter," Asgore begins, watching you carefully. "It was in with some of your paperwork. I believe you may have misplaced it."

He sounds embarrassed, like he's abashed that he may have inadvertently violated your privacy and he's afraid you'll be angry with him. It takes you a moment to realize he's talking about the letter your biological parents sent. 

One of many, actually. All of them were the same; the parents that neglected you as a child suddenly wanted you back into their lives because you're the Monster Ambassador and they think they can profit from it. You've seen the timeline where you weren't the ambassador, and they wanted nothing to do with you then. Now, they just want the fame and money that comes with your title. They want the credit.

Still, you breathe a sigh of relief. This is also a concern that seems so inconsequential now, after everything you've been through. 

"I apologize for reading it. I did not realize it was from... your family," he responds uncertainly. 

"Don't, it's okay." You shake your head. "They're not my family. They haven't been in a long time."

He doesn't relax; instead, he stops walking and turns to place a furry hand on your shoulder. "I know it must have upset you, but if you _do_ want to see them..." You shake your head again, dispelling the notion. He finally relaxes. "Good. You have just seemed distracted, and I wanted you to know that I will support whatever decision you make. I just want you to be happy, dear." 

You cover his hand with yours and squeeze. Your gut twists, but you don't tear up. "Thank you... but I don't want to see them."

"Then you do not have to." His smile is tender, but his gaze suddenly flickers to a point beyond your shoulder. Straightening, he lifts his Nice Cream in a wave. "Hello Sans! Working hard, I see."

Your heart bottoms-out into your stomach upon hearing his name. Slowly, you turn around to find Sans pushing a hot dog cart toward you. "to be _frank_ , i'm just taking the _dogs_ for a walk." He winks, and Asgore laughs. Normally, you'd be laughing with him, but instead... you're just standing there, frozen. 

"We were just out for a walk ourselves. But I do seem to remember some business I forgot about in the office." Asgore glances down at you and not-so-subtly winks. He's giving you a chance to be alone with Sans, you realize, and have to fight back the knee-jerk impulse to tell him you'll go with him. "This was nice, my dear. I am glad we had this chance to get out of the office and have Nice Cream."

"Me too," you respond sincerely, reaching out to squeeze his furry paw once more. He squeezes your hand back and says his goodbyes to Sans, before he starts heading back the way you came. 

You're left alone with Sans. The awkward air between the two of you is palpable. 

"welp, it's my break. mind if we go somewhere, kiddo?"

His expression is the same as always, and the query is light, but you know what he means. You know it was his eyes on you when you left his house the other night. But as much as you'd like to, you know you can't keep running forever. 

You need to talk to him.

You nod, and your voice comes out a little too high, "Sure, okay."

"ok." His eyelights are watching your expression carefully, and he steps away from his hotdog cart and holds out his hand. You discard the popsicle stick from your eaten Nice Cream in the trash portion of his cart, before you slip your hand into his. 

In the next moment, you feel the familiar disorientation of his shortcut, and you're suddenly no longer standing outside in the sun. Instead, you're in his sparsely-decorated room. It doesn't look much different from his old Snowdin room -- it's still cluttered, with trash and dirty clothes littering the floor -- but it no longer holds a treadmill or the self-sustaining trash tornado. 

Immediately, he lets go of your hand and plops down in his desk chair. "take a load off, why don'tcha?" he prompts, and you hesitantly sit on the edge of his mattress. The covers are bunched into a ball in the middle. 

You're both silent. You don't know what to say.

Sans sighs after a few moments pass and thankfully speaks up. "i wanted to talk to you about the other night."

Does he mean when you sobbed on Papyrus or--

"with, uh... me and tori" he clarifies. "you haven't really looked me in the eye since. and i know you've been avoiding me." 

_Oh._ You finally lift your gaze and try to meet his. It's difficult, but for another reason entirely. "It's not because of that. I... I overreacted when I saw..." You trail off, digging your fingers in the edge of the mattress to keep them from trembling. Overreacted, huh? That's the understatement of the century. You suck in a deep breath. "It's okay. I understand, and I s-shouldn't..." Your voice starts to break, and you swallow hard. 

"Sans, I'm so sorry."

You blink and two hot tears slip down your cheeks. Sans's eyesockets are wide, and he shakes his head. His perma-grin is tight. "kid, no. i'm the one that's sorry."

You can't look at him anymore. "Don't," you manage, gripping the mattress tighter. 

"i didn't mean for you to get hurt. i never wanted that to happen," he mutters, but you're shaking your head while your body trembles. After everything you did to ruin his life, you don't deserve these words.

" _Please,_ " your voice comes out in a watery whisper.

"we'd... had a bit to drink, and--"

"Stop!" The word rips past your lips, and Sans complies, surprised. You clamp a hand over your mouth to repress the sob threatening to ride out. You're not okay; you can't hold it together, not with _him_ apologizing to _you_. He doesn't owe you an explanation. He doesn't owe you anything. If he wants to be with Toriel, you'll congratulate him with a smile on your face at this point. 

He hesitates, his hand lifting from his pocket as if he wants to comfort you. After a moment, he finally lets out a heavy sigh and you feel the mattress dip under his weight as he moves to sit beside you. He doesn't put an arm around you, doesn't hug you and try to comfort you like Papyrus did. Instead, he just sits there quietly beside you while you grit your teeth and force yourself to stop crying. 

Once you pull it together, you wipe your face with your sleeves and stare at a wad of dirty socks on the floor instead of at him. The silence is painful and strained. You're making him feel guilty, you know, and you _hate_ it. "I'm sorry," you mumble again, hunching forward so you don't have to watch his indecisive hand fidgeting on his leg. 

"it's ok."

"It's not." You take in a deep breath and run your hands over your face, repeating, "It's not."

"it is. seriously, i get it. you needed some time to yourself." Finally, he touches your back. "you did nothing wrong."

"Nothing wrong?" You can't handle it; you spring up from the mattress and whirl around, a hysterical giggle bubbling past your lips. "Sans, you have no idea! You should hate me! You should!" 

_What are you doing?!_ you mentally berate yourself. You barely told any of the other iterations what had happened in the other timelines, and those timelines were fleeting. This one has consequence; this one is one where you can't just **RESET** your problems away or escape. Not anymore. 

Sans's expression subtly shifts, his eyesockets narrowing and his hands returning to his pockets. He's perceptive enough to realize this is about so much more than you being hurt over your crush on him. 

"what are you talking about? why would i hate you?"

Your eyes are watering again, and you bite your lower lip. You weren't sure if you were going to ever tell him, honestly. You don't want to, but you can't handle him being so nice to you. It was so easy to lose yourself before, to find whatever comfort you could to hide from what you had done, but... you can't do that anymore. 

You've been Judged by the skeletons before, and they Judged you as redeemable. Red forgave you, even though he watched as you kept repeating the cycle. 

For their sakes--for _his_ sake--and for this Sans's sake, you need to finally be honest.

"I broke my promise." The sentence is raw and hoarse, and Sans understands immediately. 

"you **reset**. kid..." You see his shoulders sag initially, his eyelights dropping in disappointment... and then, he seems confused. "but how are we back here? a load?" 

"I... No, not really. It's a long story, but... I messed up. I wasn't me, and then I was, but... you weren't _you_ , and then you were someone else entirely. I _glitched_ you, and then you helped me get back to this point." 

Sans stares at you as you pace back and forth in front of him, and when you finally stop, his sockets shutter and he sighs and pats the mattress again. "sit down and start from the beginning."

And so you do.

You tell him about the most selfish thing you've ever done. You tell him about your body moving on your own, about the fact that you couldn't control yourself and only he stopped you. You tell him about the other timelines--and yes, you tell him about Red, about finding him again in a Surface timeline, about him being there for you at the very end. You leave out the sex; this isn't about that. You tell him about the other versions of himself and his brother, about the fact that you tried to rope some of them into using the machine to fix your Options. 

You tell him about what happened to him, about how he had seemed to hate you for what he had become. 

Throughout your explanation, Sans was quiet. He was tense throughout the part where you killed everyone, even though you tried to be vague and didn't mention Papyrus. Both of you knew that he understood his brother's death was implied. Occasionally, he would ask for you to explain something in more detail--he seemed particularly fascinated with the timeline where the monsters were set in outer space--but for the most part, he just listened. By the end, you were shaking so hard that your voice kept breaking.

"... i really don't remember any of that," he finally says, his deep voice quiet. "usually, i would at least have some kind of deja vu, if not fragments of memories from other timelines, but... yeah, there's nothing."

"Maybe it's because I lost my Options?" you respond with a shrug.

"maybe." He turns toward you on the mattress, and you finally look at his face. You can't read his expression. "lemme look at something real quick."

Without further preamble, you see a flash of blue from his eyesocket and suddenly, the world fades to black and white and your chest feels uncomfortably tight. Floating in front of you yet again is you SOUL--and it seems as if the effects on it weren't **RESET** when you came back to the timeline. The red of your DETERMINATION is dim, and there's a jagged crack down the middle, still held together by purple threads. They seem looser than before, you think, and there's a new crack spidering from the top-left curve of the heart. 

You bare your SOUL to Sans in silence, and he takes in the sight of it. Wordlessly, he looks down, and the little battered heart snaps back into your chest, color rushing back into your sight. You gasp softly, rubbing the heel of your hand against your sternum to soothe the ache. 

You should've known that the damage to your SOUL was likely permanent, but it still surprised you to see it that way. No wonder you can no longer call up your Options; your DETERMINATION is a mere flicker of what it used to be. 

".... i don't hate you."

You look up sharply when Sans speaks, but he's not looking at you; he's staring sightlessly across the room. He sighs again, heavily, and hunches over to run his hands across his face, bone scraping bone. "i can't believe that you **reset** because..." His voice trails, and he lets the sentence drop. You both know what he was going to say. "... but you went through hell."

"So did you," you murmur, swallowing past another lump in your throat.

"a hell i don't even remember and can't imagine," he remarks. "but _you_ remember. and it left its mark on you."

"So?" Your voice is shaking. "I broke my promise, I ruined the timelines, I was selfish..."

"i know. and you got back."

" _You_ got me back. It was all you, otherwise I'd be..." You'd be what? Your arm was glitching and your **RESET** button had shattered when Glitching Sans had pulled you from that equally-as-glitched timeline with G. Would you be stuck there with him? Or would the CORE have been able to help you get to another timeline? 

You probably would have just died or glitched out of existence. Maybe you even would've ended up in the same empty void as the Glitching Sans. Or been stuck in the nothingness between **RESET** s. 

"I'd still be there," you finish.

"ok, so i helped you. from what i gathered from that story, i must've manipulated some kind of code to do it. that means the reason why i don't remember any of that is because _i_ made sure i wouldn't. i, for whatever reason, didn't want to. i was giving you a do-over, and you didn't even have to tell me all of this now, kid."

"...I almost didn't," you admit, and he nods, expecting that.

"honestly, i probably would've kept it to myself if i was in your shoes." He shrugs. 

"How can you be so nice about all this? How can you sit there and say you don't hate my guts and n-never want to see me again?"

"what's hating you going to accomplish? you're back, you're sorry, and you physically _can't_ do it again." His smile looks a bit lop-sided when he holds your gaze. "your soul is messed up, so stop beating yourself up. i'm not saying things are going to go back to how they were. i don't know if they ever will. but i _am_ saying that i don't want us to avoid each other. we're still friends. that hasn't changed."

He places his hand on your head in a gesture that's so familiar. Your chest tightens again, and you feel like you can barely breathe. 

"I'm sorry..."

"i know, kid."

You cry until there's no more tears left, while Sans lets you lean against his shoulder. Afterward, when he stands and gets ready to take you home, he makes a _shoulder to cry on_ pun that only sounds a little forced. 

He doesn't hate you. Maybe it's because he's hearing all of this second-hand, and you didn't tell him the details that make you feel like a whore. Either way, it's a weight off your chest. 

It doesn't mean that you forgive yourself, but it's a step in the right direction toward moving on.

###### 

Weeks turn into months. 

You've fallen back into your old routine. The letters from you biological parents stopped, which makes you wonder if Asgore had anything to do with it. Your relationship with Toriel has gone back to normal; your guilt slowly started to become more manageable, and you strive to make it up to her. You made snail pies, helped out more with the housework, and did your best to let her know it wouldn't be awkward for you, her, and Sans to hang out in the same room. In fact, during several hangouts with the skelebros, you invited Toriel along, and the four of you watched movies and ate on the couch. She and Sans cracked jokes throughout the entire movie, while Papyrus pretended to be appalled and you laughed. 

Occasionally, Sans would shoot you a look--one that seemed as if he was trying to figure out whether or not you were faking your laughter--but whatever he saw seemed to satisfy him. 

In truth, it still felt weird. You knew things couldn't go back to how they were, not really, but you were determined enough to at least try. You owed them that much.

You weren't sure if Toriel and Sans were ever going to be more than just best friends. Their friendship didn't seem any different when they were around you, but you were sure to tell Toriel that it was fine--that you were over your crush on Sans.

That much was true, at least. After everything that happened, you realized that while you had loved him--and still did--the love was a different kind of love now. You could never be with him now, and he would always look at you differently than before, no matter how much he reassured you that he didn't hate you. Everything had changed.

And be that as it may, everyone is alive, and _that's_ what truly matters.

Your ambassador work is excelling, and you even went on a trip to another city to give a speech with Papyrus doubling as both the monster mascot and your bodyguard. It went well, and you got to enjoy a dinner at the fanciest restaurant since--

_Valentine's Day with Red_

\--the MTT Resort. 

Toriel and Sans stayed behind, but Papyrus had pieced together enough about what went on to know it involved both of them. He wasn't blind; he had known about your feelings for his brother. So, he tactfully avoided the subject and did his best to make sure you had an amazing vacation. You really appreciate that despite everything that changed, Papyrus has been your rock. He went sight-seeing with you, picked out matching touristy shirts in vibrant colors for you to wear, and energetically posed with you for every human that stopped to get his picture. 

You were tempted to stay an extra day or three, if only to spend the days walking around with Papyrus, exploring art galleries, new cuisine, and finding wacky souvenirs. However, a text from Sans caught you off-guard and ended up cutting your vacation short.

 **sans:** hey, get back here as soon as u can

 **You:** Did something happen? Is everything okay?

 **sans:** everything's fine

That did nothing to set your mind at ease, and you felt dread pit in your stomach the entire ride home. He wouldn't elaborate further, no matter how many texts you sent. Papyrus tried to distract you, but you couldn't focus. Did something happen with Toriel? Did Sans tell her everything?

How are you suppose to stay under the same roof as her if she knows in another timeline, you killed her? And that you put all of them back Underground just because _you could_ , so you could try to win Sans's affection instead of her? 

There was no mulligan this time. You would just have to face the music. You could already feel your face growing hot and panic welling up in your chest, but you tried to push it down as much as you could so you could chat with Papyrus instead. 

It was a long ride home.

###### 

You and Papyrus arrive at the skeletons' house, and you go inside, expecting to see Toriel sitting on the couch, waiting for your explanation. Instead, the only one on the couch is Sans, watching TV and eating chisps. 

"SANS! YOU'RE GETTING CRUMBS ALL OVER THE CUSHIONS!" Papyrus reprimands, and sure enough, there's crumbs all over Sans.

"welp, that's just a _crummy_ thing to do," Sans replies with a wink that has Papyrus stomping his feet with a grin. "don't worry, i'll clean up. i want to hear about your trip. but, uh, first..." He glances toward you and suddenly throws something your way. You fumble to catch it--a key. "do me a favor and make sure the basement's locked, will ya? i could've sworn i heard the wind knock the door open."

You blink. The basement? On the Surface, Sans has a basement much like the one Underground. It's around the side of the house, sound-proofed, and he moved everything from his old one into it. 

_Wait._

Papyrus frowns, his hands planting on his hips. "WE JUST GOT BACK FROM OUR TRIP, AND THE FIRST THING YOU DO IS ASK HER TO DO SOMETHING YOU WERE TOO LAZY TO DO YOURSELF?" 

"It's okay," you say in a rush, waving a dismissive hand. Papyrus's arms fall, his irritation fading. "I don't mind checking it out while you show Sans the skeleton mask we found." 

"OH YEAH! WE FOUND THE GREATEST MASK EVER--AS EXPECTED OF US, THE GREATEST DUO EVER! IT--"

Papyrus continues with his explanation, while you cast one last glance toward Sans over your shoulder and dash outside. You're shaking again, your nerves vibrating as you make your way to the basement door. It's locked, not that it really matters, but you keep fumbling with the key. It takes you nearly fives tries to get it in the lock, and even then, you can barely get the door open. 

The fluorescent lights are shining bright on the inside, and you descend the stairs two at a time. You would've fallen if you hadn't been holding onto the railing so tight. 

There's only one reason why Sans would send you to the basement alone. You shouldn't get your hopes up, but it's too late for that. You barge into the basement, your heart in your throat, and--

\--there's no one there.

The machine is humming quietly, the usual curtain that covers it pulled away, but other than that, nothing seems different. You look around frantically, feeling that hope start to come crashing down, but then someone touches your shoulder.

When you turn around, your breath hitches in your throat and your face is instantly hot. You cover your mouth with your hand. Eyes search yours, and the hand tightens on your shoulder.

"sweetheart?"

"Sans." His name barely comes out above a whisper, but all the tension visibly leaves his shoulders.

"thank fuck, it's really you." Red pulls you flush against his chest, and you cling to him, trembling. He pulls his head back far enough to kiss you, his fangs pressing into your lips desperately. You feel something damp against your lips and realize he's _crying._ You never saw him cry, no matter what happened. He was always strong; he had to be, in his timeline. Showing that kind of weakness was asking to be killed. 

You pull back to wipe red-tinted tears from his face, and the sound he makes it somewhere between a relieved sigh and a watery laugh. 

" _How?_ " you manage, cupping his cheekbone. He leans into the touch, his arms still tight around you. He's wearing his fur-lined jacket instead of the suit, so you imagine he came from the Underground timeline. 

"i promised i'd find ya, didn't i? i don't make promises lightly, ya'know?" He voice is shaky, and he kisses you again, lingering. Then, he presses skeleton kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your neck--anywhere he can reach without letting you go.

"You remembered?" Your mind is reeling. He was supposed to go back without any memories. Everyone else did; the deal was that it'd be like you were never there.

"not at first," he admits, leaning his forehead against yours. His eyelights are bright, focused on you. "i just felt like somethin'... was off. i was uneasy all the time. more-so than usual... and well, one day... a human fell. an' she looked like you."

Your eyes widen. You didn't even think about other versions of you being in other timelines. 

"it felt like i was meetin' an ol' friend. i couldn't kill 'er. i couldn't let anyone else kill 'er, either. but... the more i was around 'er, the lonelier i felt. somethin' was off." 

He squeezes you tight and sighs against your neck. You can't tell if he's shaking or if you're trembling hard enough to make his bones rattle. 

"she wasn't you."

You're crying now. You were trying to hold it in, but you can't help it. He's here; he's really, truly here! "Y-you got the machine working? In your timeline?"

He nods, humming. "yeah. i started getting fragments of memories back, jus' quick glimpses of things that didn't make sense. i dreamt 'bout ya. yer my dream girl, sweetheart." He laughs, pecking your lips again. "i learned she could **reset** and load, that she could rewind time or start over. an' i remembered. i finally remembered. an' i decided to finally finish that crazy asshole's work so i could find ya. took me years, but it was worth it."

You're not sure how he found you. The machine behind you is humming with power, so maybe Sans had fixed his, too, at some point? The specifics don't matter to you -- what matters is that it _worked_. He found you, across timelines, despite all odds.

"You're amazing, you know that?" He smirks, and you kiss him again, then pepper his jaw with kisses. You missed him. You never thought you'd see him again! But, you're still a little curious about the other-you. "What happened to her? To the other human?"

"her an' boss are on the surface, same as here." You pull back to give him a wide-eyed stare. 

"Is... Papyrus working for the monster mafia?"

"nah, nothin' like that. he's her bodyguard. she's our ambassador or whatever, after she taught king asgore kindness or some shit." He shrugs slightly.

He left his brother in a peaceful timeline? "Will you be going back there? _Can_ you get back there?"

"yeah, i think. the me of this timeline's pretty smart when it comes to the science bullshit. i could visit 'em, but i don't even wanna think about it right now. all i care about is what's right in front of me..."

He cups your face in his hands. 

"you left last time before i could answer ya."

You blink. You can't remember what he's talking about. "Answer what?"

His hold on you suddenly shifts, and he dips you backward. Your arms lock around his neck, and he smirks. "i love you, too. don't disappear this time, ok?"

Your eyes well up. "I won't. I promise." 

And then he leans in, and you seal the promise with a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnd, that's it! That's all she wrote! 
> 
> I actually won't be expanding on the ending or answering any more asks about the storyline of BPT on tumblr. As for what happens with Red and her--and how Sans reacted to Red coming out of the machine, etc--that's all up for you guys to interpret/imagine. It probably should've ended with smut to round it out, lmao, but as much as I'd love to write it as a bonus chapter--for right now, I'm done with this fic. It's run its course, and I'm moving on to other fics and other smut. 
> 
> Thanks for reading. <3


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